#And were sick of the accompanying bullshit by three and a half books | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quindolyn · 3 years

Note

Please can i request a smut with young sirius black where the reader is very insecure and dosen't think she deserves him. Where he praises her and shows her just how pretty he thinks she is. Could you include daddy kink, praise kink and pet names if you are comfortable with that?

(also thank you for the sympathy Chinese food)

Worthy || Sirius Black

Word Count: 3,654

Notes: Not quite sure how I feel about this, I feel really out of it and have felt like that for a couple of days. I hope you enjoy it though anon, usually I post the request then the piece but doing that makes my blog kind of cluttered and I know I think it’s cleaner when people answer requests like this but I don’t know if I’m going to stick with it.

Warnings: insecure!reader, mad Siri for like 2 seconds, oral (female receiving), praise kink, daddy kink, petnames

Masterlist

“Siri we need to talk.” Yes, be blunt, be straightforward, no beating around the bush. You weren’t going to prolong this any longer than necessary. It was time to set Sirius free, he didn’t need someone like you holding him down, holding him back. And it was time you told him that.

“Yes, poppet?” He quirked an eyebrow, setting his book next to him on the plush couch of the Gryffindor common room.

“I-I was hoping we could have this conversation in private, in your dorm maybe?” You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your anxiety causing bile to rise in your throat, threatening to make you sick all over Sirius’s shoes.

“Everything okay (Y/N)?” He asked you, his eyes swimming with concern as he ushered you up the stairs to his dorm, a hand resting protectively on the small of your back.

You didn’t answer him, instead going to sit on his bed once you reached the dorm room, toeing at the fringe of the worn carpet that had probably been there for decades, keeping your eyes on your feet instead of meeting the raven haired boy’s eyes. Leaving them instead to gaze at the top of your head.

“(Y/N/N)? Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

Breathing in deeply you steeled yourself, straightforward, get this over quickly, “We need to break up Sirius.”

“What?” You winced, he sounded angry and you were sure that had you been able to meet his eyes they could’ve portrayed his anger as well.

“I said that we nee-”

“No, I heard you!” He growled, his hands balling into fists, “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t want to break up with you, don’t I get a say in this?”

“Well I want to, Sirius, and last I checked it took two people to make a relationship work, we can’t make this work if I don’t want to!” You yelled, finally raising your head to meet his visage and your heart broke.

Sirius looked heartbroken, betrayed, horribly sad, and angry. And for a second you regretted telling him that you wanted to break up in the first place.

Because you didn’t want to, you had to, for Sirius.

“That’s bullshit (Y/N)! Who is it?”

“Sirius?” You asked incredulously, what did he mean ‘who’?

“Who have you been cheating on me with? Who the fuck?” In his anger he picked up a book abandoned on your nightside table, throwing it onto the floor.

“W-What?” You stuttered, trying to keep your tears at bay.

Sirius growled, literally baring his teeth like a feral dog, “You heard me, who the fuck are you cheating on me with? Diggory? Snape?”

“I’m not- I didn’t- I-” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm yourself before continuing, “I didn’t cheat on you Sirius, I would never. This is just what’s best for you.”

“How can not being with you be best for me? I don’t wanna not be with you! Why can’t you get that through your head?” He sounded more desperate now than he did angry now, almost as if he could tell that there was something off with you and your motivations behind your hurtful words.

“You are so much better than me Sirius! You’re wonderful, and you’re smart, you excel in our subjects without even trying, you’re charismatic and witty and just plain funny! Not to mention that you’re drop dead fucking gorgeous, and I’m- I’m not. You’re everything Siri, you’re my moon and my sun and my stars, you’re the whole fucking galaxy and you deserve at least that much. And god damn it, Sirius! I’m nothing! You deserve someone half as wonderful as you are, I’m barely a fraction of a percent.” Your voice broke more at the end than you would’ve liked.

You watched as Sirius’ face fell, his bottom lip wobbling as tears flooded his eyes, which once swam with anger were now drowned in guilt and sorrow. “Puppy,” He sniffled, pulling you up into my arms as he buried his face into your neck, “Puppy, I never meant to make you feel like that. You’re everything, my love, you’re wonderful and perfect for me. I love you so much, I’m so sorry I wasn’t good enough at showing you that.” His grip tightened on you with each word until you could feel him constricting your blood flow.

“S’not your fault Siri, you’re just so much better than me. I feel so bad holding you back.”

He pulled away from you, finally allowing you to properly inhale, cupping your face in his strong hands, tilting your head up so he could look directly into your eyes.

“You, my love, do not hold me back, you propel me forward every day and make me strive to be a better man for you. Please don’t leave me, baby, not because of this, not because you think I deserve better. I don’t even deserve you, especially if I haven’t made you feel as great as you are.”

You were an idiot. This man loved you, maybe almost as much as you loved him. You couldn’t just leave him, but you also couldn’t stay and continue to hold him back. What the fuck were you supposed to do?

“Siri,” A sob tumbled from your lips as you threw yourself at his toned chest, letting your tear stained cheeks rest against the soft material of his shirt, “Siri I- I’m so sorry I love you so much I just- I just…”

“I know love, I know,” Sirius soothed you, petting your hair with one hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against him. “But you are wonderful, you are the light of my life. Let me show you how stunning you are, how beautiful and gorgeous I think your body is. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“Okay,” You responded, knowing that Sirius would require verbal consent before so much as touching you.

He walked you back until your knees hit against the edge of the bed, easing you down onto the mattress, then pushing your back down so that you were lying on your back, staring up at him through your water logged lashes.

“Look at you baby girl,” He cooed, standing in between your legs, looking down at your form, long curtains of ink black hair falling into his face.

Feeling heat rush to your face you moved your hands to cover it from the intense gaze of your boyfriend.

“Hey there pup,” HIs large hands reached for your wrists, gently pulling them away from your face, pinning them to the bed on either side of you, “There you are pretty girl, don’t hide from me please, wanna see my pretty girl.”

“Sorry,” You murmured.

“Don’t have to apologize to me darling, just want to see you.” He began unbuttoning his black button down, his nimble fingers worked quickly, pulling the buttons out of their holes. As he shrugged his shirt off of his body, revealing the entirety of his upper body to you, you felt your mouth go dry, how were you supposed to compare to that?

In your panicked haze, you didn’t notice Sirius’ fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt until you felt the warm pads of his fingertips dancing along the supple flesh of your stomach. A small gasp escaped your parted lips accompanied by a small wince.

“You’re so soft baby, so soft in my hands,” Sirius praised, allowing his rough palms to slide to your waist where they squeezed gently, “Can I take this off of you?”

After a moment’s hesitation, you nodded your consent, raising your arms above your head so that Sirius could slip the garment off of you, letting it drop to the floor next to his feet. You resisted the urge to fold your arms over your now bare torso as Sirius took his time ogling you, he swallowed repeatedly, sure he’d seen you naked before but your body would never cease to take his breath away.

“Baby,” He crooned, his eyes flying up to meet yours, “Your tits look so pretty in this bra, pretty color on you too, did you buy it for yourself?” Slowly, giving you time to stop him, one of his hands wandered to your clothed breast, giving it a nice squeeze through the lacy pink fabric.

“Uh huh, bought it over the summer with Lily and Marlene,” You answered, watching his face as he observed your heaving chest, feeling suddenly very courageous you spoke again, “You um, you can take it off if you’d like.”

This brought Sirius’ attention from your chest up to your visage, “You sure m’love, don’t have to take it off yet if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” You gulped, eyes wide, mouth dry, “I want to.”

“Arch your back then for me pup,” Sirius’ deep baritone commanded to which you promptly obeyed, allowing Sirius’ hands to slip between your back and the mattress as he expertly undid the clasp in what must’ve been record time before slipping the delicate straps off of your shoulders.

Not giving you time to be embarrassed at your progressing state of undress Sirius surged forward, slotting your lips with his, drinking from you like you were a canteen of water and he had just hiked through the Sahara. He braced himself on his forearms which rested on either side of your head, letting his tongue trace trace the seal of your lips once, twice, three times, he then plunged deep into the velvet of your warm mouth. He was gentle as he mingled his tongue with yours, brushing against yours with his.

You let out a small moan into the kiss which had Sirius’ eyes rolling back in his head, “I wanna show you how much I love you (Y/N),” Sirius murmured into your neck as he pulled away from your lips, instead leaving small kisses down the column of your throat, “We can stop if you want to, but if not I need to show you how special you are. Can I show you?”

You managed a small “Yes Daddy,” as you felt him grin into skin.

He looked up at you, eyes twinkling, “Such a good girl for me pup.”

Much to your vexation Sirius pushed himself off of you but you were settled slightly when you saw him start on the button of his pants before doing the zipper and pulling them down his legs leaving him only in his boxers.

He resumed his position on top of you, gently taking your hand from where it lay on the bed to place it over the soft material of his worn boxers, “You feel that Puppy? You feel how hard my cock is?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“You did that to me!” He beamed down at you, his hair only slightly obstructing his view of you, “That’s how much I love you, how fucking hot you are, got me so hard so quickly, no time at all baby girl and Daddy’s already desperate for you.”

You were unable to prevent the rush of heat to your face at his comment, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell just how flustered he could make you.

With your agreement Sirius finally pulled down your leggings and panties in one fluid motion, gently pulling them off of your feet before he rid himself of his boxers.

“Fuck, love,” He swore before kneeling before you and pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, “So sexy all splayed out for me on your bed, these legs,” His hands ran up and down your calves before venturing up past your knees to your thighs where they gripped the flesh, not hard enough to bruise but just enough to convey his emotion through his loving touch.

At his repeated praise you felt your wetness beginning to gather in your pussy, a small knot beginning in the pit of your stomach as he traced his lips up your calves, just barely grazing your flesh tickling your skin.

Once he got to your thighs his small kisses became open mouthed, and wet, leaving trails of saliva in his wake as he started leaving dark bruises on your legs. “I love your legs darling, the way they look in your uniform skirt, your leggings, jeans. Love them so much.” He left a soft kiss on the top of your thigh, taking note of the shiver that ran through your body.

Pushing your thighs apart he inched you closer to the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders allowing him to face your pussy head on. “Gonna make you feel so good baby, you deserve to feel good.”

He moved his arms to pin your hips to the bed, giving him more control in what he was about to do. He parted your folds with his nose, allowing him to inhale your scent.

“You smell heavenly Puppy, one of my favorite things about you, your pussy smells like heaven, and fuck does it taste good.”

As if to prove his point he leaned forward, licking a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit, letting out a moan at your taste. The vibrations from his moan sent shockwaves through your clit, feeding the knot growing in your stomach you clenched your thighs around his head.

He took it as a sign of encouragement and began sucking on your clit, pulling the sensitive nub between his lips he released hums reveling in the way they made your thighs clench around his head.

You clasped one hand over your mouth in attempts to muffle your moans from spilling out into the dorm room. And though it did do a fine enough job at it, not good enough for Sirius not to hear an especially loud whine when he nipped lightly at your clit.

“Puppy?” He raised his head from between your legs, cocking his head to the side like the puppy that had become synonymous with your name, “Wanna hear you please, want to hear the pretty little noises you make when I eat your cunt.”

As he spoke he inserted a single finger into your quivering hole, wanting to stretch you out for his cock which was aching and desperate to be buried deep inside of you. With his other hand, he reached for the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, pulling it away from your face to lay on the mattress where he interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

Hoping you would follow his instruction and let him hear you he ducked down to return his mouth to your clit, sucking on the nub again without stopping his finger which was still making its way in and out of your hole. Not satisfied that he was making you feel good enough he inserted a second finger into your cunt, stretching you out even more.

Sirius smiled into your pussy when he heard you moan, “Fuck Siri!”

“Come on Puppy,” He pressed a kiss to your hip bone, “That’s not my name, you know it, tell me what my name is good girl.”

“Daddy,” You gasped, thrusting your hips further onto his fingers which still continued their agonizingly slow pace, “Daddy, feels so good.”

“I know baby, I know,” Sirius pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, letting his cheek rest against the soft flesh as he looked up at your writhing, perspiring form, “Gonna stretch you out on one more finger then you should be ready for my cock Pup, one more then I get to be inside of this beautiful cunt.” His gaze drifted to your pussy, which was beautifully swollen for him.

“Please Daddy,” The whimper left your lips with you barely noticing, “Please want your cock.”

“Want to give it to you my love, just gotta get you ready.”

Suddenly feeling the need to be inside of you now, no doubt caused by your begging, he added another finger inside of your cunt, trying not to pay too much mind to the way you clenched around him, afraid that if he did he wouldn’t be able to think straight.

How could someone’s fingers feel so good? The knot in your stomach continued to get tighter and tighter but you still craved more, you needed him inside of you.

Simultaneously you breathed both a sigh of relief and released a bereft whimper as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, making a show of bringing them to his mouth where he licked them clean, closing his eyes in pleasure as your taste bled across his tongue.

“You taste so good Puppy, like candy,” Seeing that you obviously didn’t believe him he leaned down so his body was pressed to your and gently eased your mouth open before collecting spit in his mouth and spitting it into your’s. “See? See how good you taste? My favorite taste in the whole wide world. Swallow for me Puppy,” He grinned as you obeyed, “Good girl,” He praised with a kiss to your forehead.

“Now can you scooch up on the bed for me?” Once you were carefully rested further up on the bed, your head lying on a pillow, Sirius climbed on top of you, lining the weeping head of his prick up with your opening.

You couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips as he fully sheathed himself inside of your heart, the head of his cock prodding at your g spot thanks to the slight curve of the member.

Sirius smiled down at your face which was contorted in pleasure as he guided one of your hands to the base of your stomach, “You feel that? That’s me, that’s how good you take my cock love, I can feel it in your tummy.”

“I can feel it Daddy,” You answered feebly, Sirius’ grey eyes shimmered with adoration and pride as he looked down at your stomach before coming back to meet yours.

“You have the prettiest eyes darling,” He cooed, leaning down to kiss the outer corners of your eyes. He began thrusting in and out of you, his strokes, slow and deep as he took his time pulling out and then pushing back in.

“So wet for me, slid right in because you were so ready for me baby, and now you’re squeezing me so good.” The praises fell from his lips one after another, wanting to broadcast to you his every thought about how perfect and wonderful you were, hoping that maybe something would be able to get through to you.

The feeling of Sirius inside of you was absolutely heavenly, it was a full feeling unlike any other. His width was just enough to stretch you but not enough to cause too much pain, you wrapped your hands around his neck, burying your face in his chest as he continued moving inside of you.

“I love you so much, I love you (Y/N), you are my everything darling,” He slowed down his strokes, taking his time with each, “I’m so sorry I haven’t shown you that, but I love you more than I could ever properly tell you. Love you so much that you’re going to make me cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.”

The both of you giggled at that, knowing that Sirius was usually able to go for multiple rounds, and the slight clenching around his prick as a result of your laughter did nothing to help matters.

“Could you go a little faster Daddy, please?” You asked timidly, needing more stimulation as the knot in your stomach continued to tighten both at the feeling of Sirius nestled deep inside of you and the flattery he kept serving you.

“Such good manners Puppy,” He took the note quickly, speeding up his thrusts just enough, “Such a pretty girl taking my cock, your pretty hair all splayed out around you, like a halo. Makes you look like the angel you are.”

For some reason his comment had tears ebbing at your eyes, you barely noticed as a few escaped and rolled down your cheeks.

“Puppy, does it hurt? Why are you crying?” Worry was etched across his features as he gazed down at you, ceasing his thrusts.

“I don’t deserve you,” You blubbered, willing the tears to stop, “You’re just too good for me.”

Sirius leaned down, resuming the movement of his hips, kissing the tears off of your skin, “No I’m not, you deserve me Puppy, you deserve me. And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.”

You used your arms to pull his chest against yours as he sped up his thrusts, trying to convince you that you deserved this, “I-I’m going to cum Daddy, gonna cum. Can I cum Daddy?”

“Of course Puppy, cum for me, be a good girl and make a mess all over my cock. Be my little messy bunny, gonna cum with you.”

He rocked his hips against yours three more times before he exploded inside of you, rope after rope of cum coating the inside of your walls as you released around him. Making a mess just as he’d told you to, feeling the knot in your stomach unravel, perhaps not as intensely as usual but so much better.

Your whimpers of “Daddy” quieted as your pleasure overwhelmed you, drowning you in your orgasm as you continued to clench around Sirius’ cock, hips still bucking to meet his.

In his release Sirius repeated “I love you”, over and over again, chanting it like it was a prayer, like a promise.

“I love you,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cupid's bow as you unclenched your eyes, “And I’m going to spend the rest of my love showing you just how much.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete

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simp4cas · 4 years

Text

It Was Never Us

Masterlist

Dean Winchester × Reader

Chapter 1- Dean Winchester is a Kidnapper

It was the first time that your sleep was dreamless. There was no pain, no death. Just you. It had been a long time since you had a peaceful sleep.

Nightmares were regular to you because of the death and destruction caused by Micheal, the archangel. For the last fifteen years, you'd been fighting against him- not even completing your eleventh grade. But not completing your education had been the least of your worries then.

When the Apocalypse first began with Micheal and Lucifer fighting each other, there was this huge surge of power that fried all of your electronics. Electricity was out, cutting out communication, and at that time, you didn't know that two archangels were fighting each other. It was all pretty quiet from then, only minor earthquakes.

Food and water started to run out and your parents would make supply runs to the store close to your house every two weeks.

Then, the riots began. Hordes of people carrying weapons raided houses and stores for food and water, killing anyone who may stop them. It was then that you noticed real human behavior. Your parents had gone for a supply run and never came back.

Everything pretty much went downhill from there. You had no food in the house and no protection. You would hide in a nook on your roof, afraid that people would break into your house. Eventually, when you came out and left the house, you had been too numb to notice no one on the streets, the debris everywhere.

Fast-forward to fifteen years later, with camps fighting against Micheal and his army of angels. Along the way, you met and lost so many people. Innocent people who had so much of their lives left to them.

You had gone human scouting since you were sick of sitting in boring Resistance meetings and tending to the sick and dying people in camp. It wasn't that you didn't like helping people- your heart just wasn't in it. Lately, you'd been feeling that nothing really mattered anymore.

You and the other people were caught and then they kidnapped Charlie.

Charlie?

Shit, Charlie!

You bolt up in a sitting position, your sleep disrupted by the thought of redhead. Your mind floods with what had happened before- the angels took Charlie to the Northern Camp and left you with another angel. Someone saved you. Some guy wearing layers and another guy in a tactical suit- that honestly made him look like an idiot.

You had accompanied the strange men and gone to the camp, mainly cause they gave you a Glock that was way sleeker than any other gun you'd seen. You frown, remembering what Layers- you didn't remember his name- said to you. Something about them being from an alternate universe and you being dead there. As much as you wanted to believe them, you didn't have the liberty of bringing your hopes high.

A world without Micheal? The first time you imagined a world like that, it had been brought you to tears. A few years later, it was pretty obvious that the humans were losing the war against the angels and it was pretty obvious that all of you were going to die. So the next times you visualized it, you showed no trace of emotion on your face.

You bring your hands up, cradling your head as the memories flood faster and faster. You guys broke Charlie out from the camp but you had been hit in the frenzy of all the people shooting at the angels. Before everything went black, you remembered looking down at your hands dripping with your blood, staining the white snow and your clothes, Layers and Charlie running towards you.

You finally open your eyes, your heart beating quickly in your chest. Your hand immediately goes to your side, where you'd been shot and you feel nothing. It's didn't pain at all.

In a span of 30 seconds, you lifted your dirty gray tank top up to look at your smooth skin and scanned the room you were in.

It was- to you- beautiful. The walls were made with red bricks, only half of it cemented. There was a wooden table to the side with a few books that looked new- no damage or burns. The bed you were on- God, the bed you were on was heavenly. Not the tattered with springs-sticking-out mattresses or the uncomfortable hammocks at camp. It was an actual, comfortable-as-hell mattress on a bed. You scoff in disbelief, lifting the clean white sheet off you.

Wherever you were, it wasn't a camp. Couldn't be one. Either the angels kidnapped cause who knows the luxuries they kept to themselves. You hadn't seen a place that wasn't raided or had at least a few bullet holes in the walls in a long, long time.

What happened after you blacked out? And did Charlie actually leave you?

You scoff, shaking your head. She was one of the people you would give your life for- and that was saying a lot. You couldn't jump to conclusions. Not until you figured out where you were. You feel light-headed for a second as you swing your body of the bed, stretching your toes onto the hard wooden floor.

Your eyes scan the room for weapons, finally setting onto the lamp on your bedside table. You yank the plug out and wrap the wire around the stem of the lamp, widening your eyes at the weight of it. Cautiously, after eyeing the room one more time, you turn the doorknob, surprised to hear it click and open. That was strange. If it was angels that kidnapped you, why would they leave the door unlocked?

The hallway extended to your sides, with simple white walls half-covered with gray tiles. It was a huge place with at least 10 doors in the walls. You raise your eyebrows, wondering how big the place would be.

The floor was cold under your bare feet and you growl in anger. They took your shoes!

With your blood pounding in your ears you pass every door, fearing that one would open and an angel would walk out. You pass an archway that led to what looked like a kitchen with a small dining table, an island, a stove, and a few metal cabinets with black handles on them.

Your body tenses when you hear people speaking in the next room. You try slowing down your breath. You shouldn't be checking it out- if it was an angel, you had no weapon to kill it. But your legs moved on their own accord to the right.

You walk into a room that had a huge table in the middle with a map of the world on it. A few control panels were towards the side of the walls, with bright buttons and dials. It connected to a library and by the looks of it- and a huge one- lavishly decorated with leather chairs and weapons like swords and katanas. In front of you was a black staircase, leading up to a balcony that overlooked the room.

There were two men in the library. A man wearing a tan coat had his back facing you and to his left was another man with tall hair, wearing flannel. Who wore flannel anymore?

"Hello boys," a woman's voice speaks in a Scottish accent and you frown, tensing up more. Were there three people? But it sounded muffled- like she was speaking from a walkie-talkie.

Or a phone.

No, that wasn't possible. All the phones had gotten fried and only a few of them had been salvaged.

"I'm very sure I've done nothing that you know of to make you want to call but so good to hear from you," she continues in a silky voice as ripples of music play in the background- a piano and a harp.

Where were you?

"Rowena, that's not- um- we-"

"You have to speak up," the woman cuts the flannel dude as he leans back in his chair, sighing. You take a small step back, hoping he didn't see you.

"We need your help," another man says in a deep voice- a voice that was familiar to you. Your frown deepens and your heart beats faster as you try placing that voice.

"Really?"

"We must assemble our most powerful allies to save our family and confront the archangel Micheal," the man pauses. This voice was monotone and it definitely wasn't the flannel dude speaking since you could see him. So that meant that there was another man in the room. The man who asked for help- you couldn't see him from where you were. He was probably hidden by the huge beam that led the 'battle' room to the library. "Now, he's from an alternate universe so..."

Alternate universes? Another Micheal? Who spoke that bullshit to you last. Layers. Shit, did he kidnap you or something?

"Oh, the handsome angel is there, isn't he? Hello, cutie pie!"

The man in the coat stands straighter and you assume he was the 'handsome angel'. You swear inwardly. There was an angel here. You should be searching for a weapon to kill him but you remained standing there, listening to the conversation and trying to place that goddamned voice.

"Oh... Hello."

"Lads, obviously I ought to help after what you- Sam did for me but I'm in the damn North Pacific West right now working on my own little project."

"Project?" the man you couldn't see asks.

"What project?"

"Oh, nothing about you to worry about. Just checking off items from my little 'to-do' list."

"Sure, that doesn't sound ominous."

"Rowena," Flannel starts off, "are you at a party... or something?"

"I am but I'm surprised you recognize the sounds of a party since how you're all work and no play."

"We didn't call to talk... Look, the world is in danger, Rowena," the unseen man sighs.

"I'm currently surrounded by art that makes me think the world should be in danger. Best of luck to you boys, my three little Musketeers," she cuts the call after making a 'muah'.

"Damn it."

"You know, she's right. You never go to parties."

Great. All you got to know was that they were talking to a Scottish woman named Rowena who may or may not be evil and that they never go to parties?! There had to be something else-

The scraping of a chair against the wood makes you inhale sharply and hold the lamp closer to your body.

"I'm going to check on Y/n," the gravelly-voice says again. You freeze up but take the chance to step forward and confront them. Something like in a movie- timing and all.

You step out from behind the wall and freeze when you see the man walking down the stairs of the library, head inclining up to look at you.

The same green eyes of the man that saved you from the angel on the bridge. Not knowing his name, you frown, swearing at your forgetfulness. You didn't think knowing his name would be important!

"Layers?"

"I will not sit!" You say loudly, the lamp still extended. Dean- he told you his name after frowning at what you called him- looks down at your 'weapon' and you shake your head.

"That lamp won't do much," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up," you say and look at the man in the tan coat who stood in the library, the furthest from you, looking at everybody uncomfortably. "Why are you with an angel? And- and who's he?" you ask, looking at the freakishly tall man who stood behind Dean.

"This is my brother, Sam. That's Cas- he's our friend. You can trust him," Dean reassures and for a second, you wonder why you weren't killing all of them.

"I can assure you I will not hurt you," the angel- Cas says and you shake your head.

"I don't need an angel's assurance. All you guys do is take and take." Your voice cracks slightly and you turn to Dean who looked at the exchange between you and the angel. "Where have you brought me? Where's Charlie?"

"Y/n, just sit down-"

"Dean," Sam cuts his off and you look at him, feeling tears pool at your eyes. You quickly blink them back, not allowing yourself to feel any fear. You would get out of whatever place this was.

Dean stops talking and looks at his brother. "Look," he sighs and looks back at you, "you were dying there and I had to save you. Your camp was too far and you were bleeding out too fast."

You frown, waiting for him to continue, warily glancing at the angel again. He looked almost sad. But that impossible. Angels were ruthless killing machines and they didn't care about anyone other than themselves.

"We're in a world without Micheal, Y/n. You're safe here."

"A world without Micheal," you scoff and look at the three, trying to spot the crack in the lie. But Sam and Cas looked at you with sincere expressions and Dean- well, every time he looked at you, there was something in his eyes- something that made it look like he didn't want to look at you at all.

"A world without Micheal," Sam says this time in a reassuring voice. "Cas healed you up when you came. You're safe here, Y/n," he continues, furrowing his eyebrows and making puppy dog eyes.

"It's actually a world without Micheal," you scoff again, your heart soaring in your chest. "A world- a world without Micheal. That was a phone in your hand," you say, now smiling ear to ear, laughing. "It's a world without Micheal!"

"Yeah," Dean says, a judging look on his face.

Your smile falls, though, as quickly as it came. "What about Charlie? And the others?"

Dean looks down. "She wanted to stay back."

Guilt brings your heart down, making it beat erratically. You shouldn't even be here. You should be there with Charlie and the others like Bobby and Tyler.

"Wait, you only- no. No, no, no. They need me there," you say as your eyes dart around the room. They finally settle on Dean. "You need to take me back."

A world without Micheal. A world where you could live peacefully, not having to live in constant fear all the time, worrying when the angels would attack again. A world where angels were apparently good. A world where you could be happy. But not living in a world with the people you loved and cared about... You were willing to throw away the perfect world for them.

"We can't," Cas says in his monotone voice this time and just him speaking irritates you. You shouldn't be rude to the angel since he was the one who saved you- it still surprised you that an angel did that- but it was just instinct.

"What do you mean you can't?" Your irritation seeped into your voice, earning a slightly surprised look from Sam and Dean.

"The ingredients we need to open the door," Sam continues, glancing at Dean, "we don't have them right now."

Your eyes widen and your mouth hung but you quickly shut it, clenching your jaw. "You brought me here," you speak, voice getting louder with every word, "with no plan of taking me back?"

"Y/n, it's not like that," Sam says but you shake your head, just wanting them to stop talking.

"How do I know you're not lying- that I'm actually in an alternate universe?" You look at Dean, with your brows knit together as a smile graces his lips.

Tags: @bi-danvers0

#dean winchester×reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #the bunker

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pffbts · 5 years

Note

Haiii Loubeee... Please can you make a Jimin fluff for me preferably when y/n is upset and hiding in the library.. thenx 💕💕

GENRE. fluff; angst.

CHARACTERS. park jimin x reader | no supporting character.

W.C. 2.3 K

AUTHOR`S NOTE. jimin is a certified pabo but that’s also the reason why i love him so fucking much. it physically hurts. btw, it`s raining here in kolkata so i`m writing a lot. happy reading, bub and thank you for requesting!

[10:53 PM] [rains are only fun when someone is in the library]

―jimin could end up becoming a stalker but he breezes his way through the shelves picking up the book he had to.

jimin could end up falling more in love but he still breezes through the shelves and almost shakes the sleeping librarian off his sleep by placing the said book in front of him.

it wasn`t like he really intended to do so. feelings―they just don`t happen by being said, they happen out of nowhere and it wasn`t exactly his fault that his curiosity killed him every day. since a very younger age, he has been very curious about anything that his mind has been stuck on.

today and for one and a half year, it has been you.

when he first saw you he thought you must be a weird one like him too because no one just spends every day sitting in the library reading books. yes, sure―he isn`t implying that people don`t come here to read apart from him but it`s not something a person would do regularly.

but the thing that set you apart from anyone here was the air that you carried around you. it was like the smell of a lipstick being opened for the first time, it was like the first time you recognized the smell of rain without your mother`s help, it was like the smell of bed sheet after you`ve slept for too long. you were uncertain and it shakes his insides tremendously. he hopes to never lose that feeling.

so that`s how he is now―he`s curious―very much curious about you. he wants to know you. more than feeling you, he wants to know you. maybe people won`t understand him if he ever tells them about his perspective of love for you, also it`s not like he has ever tried speaking about it. it would sound too greasy for their ears. thus, jimin kept his own thoughts within himself and found ways to quench his curiosity.

just like you know someone by their playlist, you can also know by the genre of books they read or more accurately the books they read. it`s their way of indulging in the world they wish for. so, jimin, after one month of observing you from afar decided to pick the books which you return back every fridays.

it`s been one and a half year that jimin`s been doing the same routine and it has never once bothered him because the more he read the books you finished, the more he started diving into you more.

so that perspective that he was talking about―maybe he did try to jot it down a little bit. it will honestly sound nonsensical to anyone but he tried anyway.

what he actually wanted to say that, he just can`t tell why he is only pulled towards you. he doesn`t know if it`s you as a person or it`s the you who lives inside your body is the one who`s pulling him towards this direction. he has found out through the books and its characters that you`ve a knack for sad stories, especially sad endings. now, no one really wants a sad ending in their lives, do they? or is it just a way of coping up with the reader`s own sadness?

some days, he does get sad and wants to comfort you but sadly, he didn`t want to sound like a stalker. he knows he won`t do any harm but he`s still scared. what if one day he does reveal all these and you suddenly stop coming to the library? what if he suddenly can`t tell which is more lonely―his own room or this library?

so he didn`t do what his tempted heart wanted. he kept this little secret of his inside his heart and soul and dodged out all the bullshit thoughts through the windows. he zipped his mouth and concentrated on just being in this melancholic love story which only occurs in his mind. he was after all, at some point one with you. it didn`t matter if it`s just the minds which connect and not the skins.

no matter how much you stop yourself from watching or reading anything with a sad ending or that tragic tag, you just can`t stop your fingers from hovering over the keyboard to click on that drama/anime/manga or the sad books in the library. it disturbs your mind but you feel like your head is heavy, the place where the cerebrospinal fluid should be there, it just continues to be filled with pebbles and pebbles of dark thoughts and you find yourself spiralling down the river of depression.

it`s not like the incident at home is anything better. there`s always been tension in that house`s air but you still found sanity inside yourself, thanks to your mother who tried to cheer you up occasionally. but that doesn`t mean you don`t have fights with her―and when it happens, it always leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you feel like you had the most tiring day ever.

it`s not like things are starting to surprise you anymore. everything is dull and badly animated. where it should have been a watercoloured background, it`s just dull grey areas and uneven surfaces. but the most bittersweet relationship that you`ve is with the rain especially the time during the start of autumn when festivals are starting to show its colour and you don`t even know the alphabets which make up for the word happiness. your fingers, the tip of your tongue feels barren of the same word. it just doesn`t make sense, because you know there are people who`re sadder than you, more depressed than you but maybe they, just like you want a ray of sunlight in their life. but it`s still barren―this place which we call our world.

but that library was your escape, though you still opted for sad ending books and that empty feeling after finishing a good book.

today just like last evening, it`s been raining all day and though nature`s depression is accompanying your own, you`ve a hunch that today won`t be like any other day. well, anyway, that was bound to happen. after all, today you were just going to pull out five of your favourite books you had already finished some weeks back and then take the train to your friend`s place to spend a day at her place and also give her the books she asked for.

as usual you gave a curt nod to the constant drowsing librarian while entering, but instead of taking your usual seat, you went directly to the shelves you had to get your books from. from the corner of your eyes, you saw the usual faded blue haired guy sitting at his own regular seat scheming through the lines of his book. the way he was holding the book, you had trouble seeing the title. you moved your eyes back to your hands which pulls out the last book from the shelf instead of giving any further fruitless gaze to the guy.

walking back towards the place where the librarian sat, you place the five books you had to take. you pulled out your membership card and gave it to her while she writes down the date for return. you told her it will take about a month to return all them all together.

through her spec, she looks up at you with that same drowsy look, “what is it with you and that guy reading the same book all the time? can`t you both just share them rather than making me work twice?”

you felt a jolt in you and you moved your face forward, “what do you mean reading the same book?”

she closes her eyes for a whole two seconds and opens them up but this time you saw an expression on her face that you never thought you would see on her―she was smiling and it was a smile which had secrets.

“i bet that young guy is in love with you. i saw a movie like that with my daughter some years ago. the guy who was in love with the girl read all the books she read. ah,” she proceeds to scratch her scalp with the back of her pen, “i just can`t seem to remember the name of the film―”

“whisper of the heart? are you talking about the 1995 ghibli film?”

her eyes glows and she moved her pen furiously at that, “yes! that one. ah, that was such a good film.” she sits back in her chair still smiling.

“but anyway, it`s just my thoughts. youngsters these days are something else. also i trust you. you can keep them for one month but you`ll be fined if you don`t return them in the same condition.” the librarian who has successfully thrown you into another dimension, returns back to writing your name on the book`s card. “if you weren`t a regular i wouldn`t even allow this.” while she continues to mumble on her own, you stir your face a little to watch the guy reading the book he`s holding in the way same you saw some while ago.

this old lady must be in some dreamworld, you thought, you didn`t even have any thought about his existence outside this library and this guy―this good looking guy can`t be in love with you. yes, you nodded to yourself, she`s definitely dreaming on her own.

suddenly, you saw the cards on which she was writing your name and you saw another name just after the first time your name was written. it read PARK JIMIN and it baffled you that even that guy`s name was pretty enough in your eyes and it was all the same. literally all the times you`ve issued these five books, he has issued them just after that. he must have really been committed in his dedication.

you push the books inside your side bag while the librarian throws you a quick nod and along with that the same mischievous smile from some minutes ago. you shake your head at her and walk out of the library.

you weren`t exactly expecting anything new but the next day when you entered the library you were hoping for a glimpse from that guy. but your legs stopped from moving any further as you watch his usual seat empty. i mean, you thought it`s alright―maybe he got sick or something, after all, it`s been raining for the last three days. maybe something might`ve come up at his place…and it didn`t even occur to you until you felt the gush of wind against your face, which was only possible if someone is cutting through the wind.

“hey! no running in the library!” you heard the librarian`s voice booming through the library but your feet didn`t listen to her words and instead, you placed yourself at the entrance of the library, your body heaving against the large pillar that gave the library behind you a grand look.

when you had finally caught up with your breath, your eyes move up and there stood a drenched park jimin―his hair which was already starting to look like dull blue was scattered against his forehead, his eyes were wide and there was a worrisome look in them. clearly, he had forgotten about his umbrella even though the forecast said it would be raining for a whole week. oh, how much of a stupid this guy is, you felt anger and a sign of relief building in you but it didn`t stop you from looking at him in the eye.

“umbrella?” you start with your breathless voice, “did you forget that?”

jimin, whose eyes had moved away from your face returned to that same spot only to feel a certain warmness oozing from his insides. out of habit, he pulls at the strand of his fading blue hair, “ah, yes. is everything okay in the library?”

“huh?” you ask him, suddenly feeling too dumb.

“i mean, you`re heaving. are you sick? is everything okay?” he moves his hand behind and looks back for a split second before continuing, “i know a doctor’s chamber nearby. do you want to―”

“no!” you shook yourself by your own voice and then standing up straight you cough back, “i`m fine. i just needed some air and―rain! i wanted to see how much it`s raining…”

“ah, that. yes, it`s been raining hard, isn`t it?” jimin now walks towards you but he shakes himself a bit and messes up his hair in that process too. he literally looked like a drenched duckling and it was so adorable you wanted to hide behind the same pillar you were previously leaning onto.

“let`s go then,” you say, your voice too little.

jimin hums back at you, “sure.”

and, you both enter the library finding yourself in the comfort around the walls that enclose both of you while it pours a little harder than before. you conclude to yourself that rains are only fun when someone`s in the library―with you.

fin.

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lokis-lady-death · 6 years

Text

Return to Crimson Peak Pt 4

Return to Crimson Peak

Disclaimer: This story is written as a sequal to Crimson Peak. If you couldn’t handle the original story, please don’t read, because that would be dumb.

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Mini Series Halloween

The slight creaking of floor panels, the sudden jolt of something running through the pipes in the walls, followed by eery, unnatural silence.

All the through the night, that’s all I heard. The constant sound of life flowing through a house that had known nothing but death.

I had stayed quiet, kept my eyes close, certain that if I ignored it, the nagging terror in the back of my mind would cease.

I just wanted to go to sleep.

But it was in that last moment of consciousness that I heard it. Faint but so distinctive I would know it anywhere.

My phone had just received a text.

Popping back to life, I scooped up my cell and praised to the Verizon Gods for bestowing me with enough signal to try and communicate with the outside world.

But when I opened the lock screen, I stopped.

The sender information read across the top: (028) **** - 6609, Belfast, Ireland.

I didn’t know anyone from Ireland.

I wrinkled my brow but clicked ‘open’, my blood turning to ice in my veins as I read, “Get. Out. Now.” down the message. No subtext. No name.

I jumped from my bed and ran out my bedroom door to Luke’s room. “Luke!” I begged, “Luke, open the door!” My fists pounded on the door in loud unison like a war drump. “Luke!”

In the corner of my eye, I caught movement. It caused me to freeze, my mind running rampant but my body unable to process a single thought. More movement, accompanied by a loud thump.

I moved, slowly, knowing that once I saw what was coming, I couldn’t deny it anymore. Any of it.

As my head rotated around, my heart began to speed up, When I finally saw the body, coated in some type of red gunk, I screamed. The body slowly came towards me, one forced step after another thump. “LUKE!”

I jiggled the knob, trying desperately to get in.

Thump.

Even if it was still in this horrific house, at least in his room I wouldn’t be alone. “Luke, please!”

Thump.

I could hear something on the other side of the door, but still no answer. “OPEN THE DOOR, LUKE!”

Thump.

I closed my eyes tight, whispering to myself, “It’s not real. They’re not real. They’re not real, they can’t hurt me.”

The door flew open and I pushed on through, slamming it closed behind me.

I hadn’t realized how hard I was crying until Luke snapped me out of it with a firm shake. My palms had dug so hard into my eyes that my vision blurred a moment before straightening out.

“What the hell, y/n?”

“Someone text me, and then there was a body in the hall!”

His face contorted in confusion. “What?”

I held my phone up to his face, giving him the extra long minute to read so his slow processing mind could understand before pointing at the door. “And then while I was knocking on your door, something started walking down the hall, covered in red.”

“Like red clay?” Luke exclaimed, his unnerving excitement sending a shiver down my spine. “That’s how they used to dispose of the wives. The Sharpes? Remember? They would leave their bodies in the clay wells in the cellar!”

Luke pushed me to the side and flung the door open despite my protests. But there was no one there.

“Dammit, how come you’re the only one who keeps seeing the cool stuff?”

“Why are you acting like this is great? I’ve been laying in my bed freaking out hearing all kinds of spooky shit! If this house is really haunted like in the book, then it’s only a matter of time before something happens to us, we need to leave...”

“Why are you so scared, it’s obviously fake?”

I narrowed my eyes and set my hands on my hips. “You think what I’m seeing is fake?”

“Y/n. Seriously. Why would a ghost call you?” he reasoned. I bit my lip, knowing that it made absolutely no sense. “Come on, think about it. It’s a marketing scheme. Your number is in their system, they obviously text you that message to freak you out. They’re probably what caused all the weird shit you’ve been hearing. If we, the great great whatever grandkids of Edith Cushing have a crazy experience here, maybe write a book or a blog about it, surely they’ll pick up business, right?”

I couldn’t believe his reasoning was so clear. He had wanted to believe all this far more than I did, but as far as he was concerned, none of what I saw was real.

I stood there trying to sort through what to do next when he pulled me into an unexpected hug. “You wanna stay in my room tonight, scaredy cat?”

I mumbled yes under my breath and we settled in for the night. I kept my phone in my hand all night, trying hard to feel as strongly resolved as Luke, but finding myself unable to shake the feeling that we shouldn’t be here.

~~~~~

I didn’t remember falling asleep but I woke up to a sharp pain my stomach. I grunted before finally coughing, hard. Luke was disturbed and sat up beside me, patting me on the back. “Are you okay?”

“I think my nerves got me sick,” I told him, feeling my face to check for a fever.

“You’re fine, just need something to eat. Let’s go check out the complementary open kitchen.”

One of the selling points of the Allerdale Hall was their meal plan: open kitchen. Some foods were supposed to be premade and stored there for the guests to enjoy for breakfast, lunch and dinner. For broke travelers, the price factored into their overnight stay was hard to argue.

Just like the rest of the house, the kitchen had its original gothic charm with some modern upgrades. I was just grateful for the overflowing pantry and fridge.

“I’ll find you something,” Luke offered, “You sit down and take a break.”

I appreciated the sentiment since he wasn’t exactly comforting the night before.

The the rear entrance door flew open and in came the bouncing pink haired owner, Rain. “Good morning, my lovelies!” she sang to us as she passed by. “How was your first night?”

Luke glanced over at me before grinning. “Intense. But satisfactory.”

She gave us her toothless grin before saying, “Glad to hear it!”

I felt myself relax a bit, for what reason I don’t know. Maybe because she looked so untouched by the events I had endured, or because she just had that glow of life about her that I was excited to see. “Yea, the dinner was a nice touch.”

“Oh? What did you guys do?”

Luke and I locked eyes. “The dress up dinner?” Luke pointed out.

Rain’s smile didn’t fade but her head tilted while she asked, “The what?”

He looked at me again but knew before I could speak a word what was going through my mind. “The dress up dinner. With the actors?”

Her smile faded. “Actors?”

“We got an invitation and clothes sent to our rooms?” I pressed, feeling a wave of nausea roll over me. “There were, like, 50 people in the great room. There were actors dressed up as the Sharpes. Are you saying you didn’t send it?”

“No,” she answered, “We don’t do dinners. Everything is ‘serve yourself’. And I certainly don't have the means to get actors to a hotel surrounded by 2 feet of snow.”

Luke laughed as he handed me a glass of orange juice, “Yeah, okay.” But you and Rain weren’t laughing. “So where were you at in this weather?”

“I was home?”

“You don’t live here?” Probably the first real hint of concern in Luke’s voice etched it’s way out this time, and that caught my attention.

“Of course not,” Rain scoffed with a half smile. As her eyes darted between the two of us, she added, “You really think I would buy and live in a haunted house? A ton of people died here, no I’m not doing that. That’s just asking for trouble. My husband and I stay in the trailer Outback.”

“Have you ever stayed the night here?” I asked quickly, needing to know if she had any idea what I could have been seeing the last 12 hours.

She paused. “Yes.”

“And?”

Her eyes went to the floor and she gave another pause, trying to find the words. “I run this house as a job. I like the macabre yea, and Victorian things, sure. But this house.” Her eyes ran around the kitchen, like she was expecting someone else to speak. “It's got a feeling with it. Like there's some dark force boiling thought with the clay…”

Silence. All three of us listening harder to see if anyone else was in the house.

But nothing.

“Can we go down to the cellar to see the clay wells?”

Rain smiled while I felt sicker at the thought. I stifled back a cough, but remember the odd taste of citrus and metal in my mouth.

“Sure ya can,” she encouraged to my dismay. “Let me show you how to go…”

“Absolutely not.” I was firm, and I wasn’t going to change my mind. “I’m not doing that.”

Luke didn’t care, he just shrugged. “I can go with her. You are more than welcome to wait in my room.” He grinned. “Alone.”

I bit my tongue and finished drinking my juice. “Fine.” Hopping from my seat I gave them both a final salute and marched up the stairs. I was not about to go into any cellar in a haunted house.

Absolutely not.

So alone I tracked to my room, sure that if I could just get to my phone and turn on some music to drown out the world around me, I might maintain my sanity.

I was halfway down the hall when I began hearing the strange rattling in the pipes again. I stopped immediately, my eyes following the movement of the rattle down the other hallway with the round mirror. And the room that emitted that strange light.

“Nope,” I thought. “Not today. I am done with this bullshit.”

But when I willed my feet to take me to my room, I couldn’t move. Instead, I started coughing.

Hard.

I leaned over, slightly retching on my own gags, when I felt a hand on my back trying tonsoothe me. Finally catching my breath I whipped my head around and see Sir Thomas Sharpe.

The actor?

Or something else entirely.

“You!” I snapped.

“Yes?” His brow quircked at my tone, his eyes focusing on mine.

“Who the hell are you?”

His tongue swept across his lips as he averted his eyes, trying to come up with a response.

“The owner said no one else was here last night. That she didn’t hire any actors for some dinner party.” I stepped up to him and narrowed my eyes. “So. Explain.” He didn’t answer, instead managing to look completely blank while my aggravation rose. “She said no one is here but her, her husband, me and Luke. Does that mean you’re her husband? If that’s the case, who were the other people at that party?”

“I’m not her husband,”

His tone was so ice cold I shuttered before asking in a low voice, “Then who are you?” He only stared at me with those blue eyes, his nostrils flaring while he ignored my questions. “I know I didn’t imagine that party. I know I didn’t imagine all those people. Luke saw it all, too. So why, then? Why would she say that?”

He didn’t answer and I felt my anger subsiding for fear and confer. “Please just tell me your name. Your real name. Tell me who you really are and what you’re doing here. Because you’re not a hotel guest and you don’t work here.” The tears were heavy, stinging my eyes more and more with each blink.

The rattling in the pipes started agaij, this time further down the hall. I pushed passed Thomas to follow jt, ending up outside of the door i had come to the day before. Light came through the bottom and i could hear distinctive movements on the other side. “If you won't tell me what's going on, I'll find out for myself.”

I could feel him as he got beside me, stopping me just as my hand got to the doorknob.

“Don't.” and again my anger came out.

“What you people are doing isn’t scary. It’s fucked up! It’s not funny, it’s not amusing, its driving me insane and I want it to stop! My brother insists that despite what I’ve seen, this is all fake. He is determined we haven’t experienced anything real and that what I have seen has been a part of some scare tactic to build up business. If that’s true, you people have a lot of nerve pulling this shit…”

I inhaled sharply, the ferocity in my voice so sharp it cut with every word I lashed out. But in the end, I felt myself weaken. Thomas’s eyes were glaring at me now, and I became well aware of just how large a man he was. For all his well spoken, well mannered impression of Sir Thomas Sharpe, this actor had never broken away from character. Even when he scolded me and Luke for the seayonce. And now, staring me down with a clenched jaw, I couldn’t help but feel something inside me twist like what I was looking at was no longer human.

I could see something burning in his eyes and I was made both painfully and frighteningly aware that I could be dealing with something far darker.

He spoke, low and serious, “Do you think it is meant to be amusing, Ms. y/n?” He took a step towards me, his eyes staying focused on my own. “You believe ghosts are meant to bring you amusement? That you can pay a little money, see the oddity, and maybe have something interesting to tell your friends. That ghosts exist here, in the world of the living to souley bring a touch of magic into your otherwise gloomy existence?” I took a step back, so small that it shouldn’t have meant anything, but Thomas reached out and took hold of my wrist. His skin was cold it felt like he wrapped me in dry ice.

It burned.

“No, I’m not done yet! You living come to this home, this place where I was born. Where I lived. Where I died. And you make a mockery of my life, asking with your little rituals to see some glimpse of me, of my sister, only to taunt us.” His grip on my wrist tightened, making me wince. “And you.” He took pause, seeing the tears swelling in my eyes. He didn’t let me go, but I could see the regret. “You.” It was like he snapped out a dream, his eyes lowered and he finally released me. “You should never have come here.”

There was a loud, unmistakable pounding from the other side of the door behind me. My head whipped around to see while my heart raced in my chest. A strong wave of confusion and pain washed over me as I began to cough again, Thomas letting go of me long enough to cough into the back of my hand.

When I stopped, I realized the knocking had ceased and Thomas was gone.

I also noticed another tinge of red on my hand where I coughed.

“Is that blood?”

Like my garbage? Read more of it! Master List

If you would like to be tagged or untagged from this series, comment or message me!

CP Tags: @intransittosomewhere @harata-raven, @whatislifewithoutlovestruck

ALL TAGS: @socialheartbreak @kcd15 @maladaptive-ninja-returns@nephalem67 @jessiejunebug @woodyandbuzz20-01@lokislilslut @bambamwolf87 @avenging-blackwidow

#sir thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe #edith cushing #edith sharpe #crimson peak #lucille sharpe #tom hiddleston #halloween

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barebonesblonde · 4 years

Text

Lust, Laughter, and the Land of Oz

Remember what things were like before COVID? Yeah? No? Because I do, just barrely. Here’s something i wrote just before it hit, in February, just three months before i got sick -- i was feeling pretty good mentally, too. Hadn’t had to take my anti-psychotic in about 4 months, and was still happily in my I’m-single-for-almost-four-years-and-don’t-want-to-change-it mode.

I know i’ve been bitching pretty incessantly for the past few posts about this ”relationship” that ended recently, but the fact is, things never got the chance to get physical (COVID, hello) so i suppose technically, i never broke that 4-year streak. ANYWAY. Here’s where my head was concerning sex, love, and all that nonsense before the shit hit the fan. Since we can’t backdate things on here, i’m just copying it from my Wordpress blog and throwing it up here with a long-winded explanation before i move on to other subjects, and close the book on All Things Romantic for awhile. I just wanted to post this to remind myself where i was coming from before things took a wrong turn, now that i’m feeling better;

Which is that sex is perfectly good and fine and healthy, but i suck at the whole relationship thing, and i need to remember that before getting involved with anyone (particularly since my ASPD -- not so much my SZA -- crap tends to impede my judgement in that regard, let’s be honest. I am often attracted to unhealthy types, and that’s not good for me, as i’m working hard on getting better, not feeding the Beast).

What this shows me -- and reminds me of, is that i’ve been attracted to happier, healthier types lately. And that’s really a good thing. While things may have ended on an unpleasant note with this last one, and he definitely wasn’t the healthiest guy in the world, he was FAR from abusive and horrible. He was just immature and flighty and a host of other things, but not the usual fare i tend to go for (i.e., somewhere in the neighborhood of my diagnosis, but the evil, ultra-narcissistic, super fucked-up, unmedicated/untreated version; either that, or just a completely useless, quasi-depressed child with substance abuse issues. Take your pick. Now that i think of it, He might have fit into that 2nd category...).

So, with no further ado...

Feb 5, 2020 -

Sexual ambivalence when you’re single is such a useless, silly, obsessive state. Once you’re there, it’s so impossibly difficult to get out. Like when you’re a kid, at the bottom of the slide, trying to climb up to the top when you’re wearing only socks and have a case of the giggles. You’re just going to keep sliding back down again. And the thing of it is, you really don’t mind…except for the fact that you never get a really good slide in, because you never quite make it all the way to the top.

Are my metaphors getting too convoluted?

Bear with me, here…

It’s been nearly four years, with the exception of one ill-advised and poorly executed fumble into one-night stand territory two summers ago, since I’ve had sex; and I almost don’t count that time, since I was inebriated, didn’t come, and the guy was so tedious and odd in his behavior – what with his bemoaning the “perfect” ex-girlfriend one minute while we’re in bed, then telling me he can’t believe someone as beautiful as me would sleep with him the next (not to mention the consequent bizarre stalker-like behavior that continues to this day) that I almost feel like I can erase it from the board because the universal system of checks and balances surely indicates that I get to start from scratch when it comes to that one. Right?

Anyway, the point is it’s been a long time. Previous to that, I was in an abusive relationship, and the last time he fucked me, it was so angry that I felt like he was trying to exact some kind of bizarre, bad porno film-esque revenge on me, so that barely counts in my book either. So I’d say I’m about due for a toe-curling orgasm, or a hundred. Like, on a regular basis, from whomever the fuck I please, whenever I want, for the rest of the year. Or, month? How many orgasms are a reasonable amount to expect in a month’s time? I’ll be damned if I know – it’s been far too long since I’ve had that sort of sex life. Which is stupid, since that used to be my modus operandi.

I’ve always known how bad I am at relationships. I’ve been broken in that regard from the word Go. There are any number of reasons I’ve stayed single for the past three and a half years – and indeed, plan on staying that way. I could go into detail, which I have in previous posts, but the heart of the matter is a woeful lack of judgment and boundaries on my part. My taste in men is so bad, it’s actually notorious amongst my circle of friends. When I haven’t seen someone in awhile, a common question is;

“So, you’re not…dating anybody…are you?”, accompanied by a worried expression.

I truly am that bad at choosing men to be in relationships with. The more violent the nature, the more obsessive, and the longer the prison term the better has been my motto (and yes, there have been one or two exceptions. But literally, just…one or two). And so, I prefer to keep a safe distance from the whole mess. Over the years, in fact, I’ve come to realize that I’m much better off when I’m single. This has always been the case, all the way back when I was in my twenties, and ostensibly not yet jaded.

I’m OK with this. Because I’m not the type that needs to be in a relationship to be “complete”. I don’t get lonely, in that sense. I have friends. I might have done occasionally when I was younger, and made more wholeheartedly pathetic attempts at being in “real, grown up relationships” that would last, but anyone who’s known me for long knows I’ve always been happier single.

Sex was never really a problem – I got that whole thing sorted out early on. After some childhood trauma and a teenage rape, I set out to fix myself of the abject terror, pain, disassociation, and ultimate inability to feel a thing. I did that with a series of handpicked lovers (several of them one night stands). Sort of an immersion therapy deal. I figured out how to ask for what I needed, and how to get out quick if it was obvious the guy wasn’t interested in getting me off (or turned out to be dangerous). And now I love sex. Which has the unfortunate effect of making some men think you love them. I’m not sure how that works, but there it is. And fuck, is it annoying. The way some people confuse lust and love has always been astounding to me. I tried explaining this problem to some hippies I knew years ago, and they looked at me like I was some kind of evil succubus. I guess that whole peace and love thing didn’t allow for the finer points of fucking…

Anyway, I spent so much time figuring out how to be good at sex, but I hadn’t the first clue about being good at relating to men in the context of a relationship. How to draw boundaries. How to stay safe emotionally, and even physically. And time and again, it’s been disastrous.

But, as for male friends, I couldn’t ask for a better bunch of guys. I picked a group of really stand-up men. And with the exception of a couple whom I’d fuck on occasion, on and off over the years (because they didn’t ask anything more of me, or get things twisted), they weren’t guys I was crossing that line with (well, except for the one time I did, and that just ended up as you’d expect – disastrously. And that was my fault, because I was grieving my son, and was a huge mess). My guy friends are all intelligent, fun, cool, creative people who genuinely care about me. They call me on my bullshit, and regularly tell me how intelligent, talented, and beautiful I am, when I feel anything but.

So…why do I make such terrible choices when it comes to romantic relationships? Well, if I knew that, we wouldn’t be here now would we? Actually, I do have a pretty good idea why – and of course it’s all down to being brought up in a house full of mental illness, abuse, and the resulting lack of boundaries and high tolerance for chaos/ideas of what’s “normal” that skew my perceptions in the relationships department. And that’s a Hell of a lot harder to fix than sex.

So, I stick to sex.

Or, at least I did. But, things have been off for a few years now. Even before the abusive relationship 3 1/2 years ago, it’s been like I’ve been dead inside since all of the death and loss I’ve endured, really. Ever since then, I really just haven’t had the life force it takes to have a healthy libido. Which sucks. Losing such a huge part of who you are because you’ve lost people you love is like walking around with a huge hole in the center of your chest. And it’s a long, slow climb back to being a whole person again.

Then the real surprise is finding out that, after you’ve worked through all that grief, you aren’t at all the same person you used to be.

Fast forward to two weekends ago.

So there I am, sitting at a local haunt, listening to my girlfriend M tell me that the bartender is flirting with me (for the 47 millionth time) and aren’t I going to do anything about it?

M is my opposite in so many ways – the brunette with the wild sex life and raging libido, the Lonely Hearts Club girl just looking for love, to my misanthropic, stoic, cold, Blonde lce Queen that I’ve become. We make a great pair. She’s always got some guy waiting in the wings, whilst I’m forever fending off her offers to hook me up with “this great guy she knows”.

I tell her she needs to be less dependent on men for her sense of self worth; that there is joy in being alone and getting to know oneself. And she tells me I need to stop being so damn untrusting – that I need to let a little bit of fun and risk into my life, that I’m too young to be so frigid. We’re both right, of course.

For months, she has been the voice of my deadened, dormant sex drive – like the insistent little breath of spring to my boring, snow-bound, sexless, Persephone alter-ego — stuck underground with my shitty husband Hades (that’s how I anthropomorphise my sex drive for the past few years), who just wants to hang out with the souls of the Dead, watch football and drink mead.

But, this time, for some reason, I listen. This time…instead of rolling my eyes at her and commenting that he’s too young, or too skinny, or too shaggy, or too cheerful, or whatever, I instead notice he’s actually pretty cute, and that he’s looking at me with what can only be described as unmistakable desire as he approaches me with liquid brown eyes and a drink, and sets it down in front of me. Then he knocks M’s glass, spilling some of her water onto the bar, then immediately cracks the snappiest joke, which makes me laugh so hard I actually snort. Then he turns to me and asks if there’s anything else I want.

And it’s then I realize – my entire body has that tingly feeling I used to get as a kid from when people would play with my long hair, when he looked at me just now; I am like a cat, internally all langorous, and purring…

And I think, Yes, yes there it is. I want him.

And it may not ever happen – because I can’t think that definitively yet. But, yes. I want. Maybe it will happen with him, or maybe with someone else. The possibilities are…pretty much wide open. The point is, I actually, really, truly feel Lust for someone for the first time in years.

Over the summer, I wrote about that jerk I knew from my old bartending gig who walked me home, then grabbed me and kissed me – I wrote how it was actually a pretty great kiss, but there was no liquid melting of my insides, and I was drunk (actually not how I usually go about these things), he wanted me to invite him in but I was like fuck no…and then the next time I saw him he was a little shit to me because I wouldn’t fuck him that night. Well, that all flashed in front of my eyes for a moment as I sat there with this cute, scruffy guy staring at me with his big, doe eyes and then I remembered;

“Yeah, but you didn’t want to fuck that guy in the slightest…so your instincts were spot on”.

And suddenly it’s like that moment when Dorothy steps out of her house in Oz, and everything is in Technicolor after a lifetime of boring Sepia. I notice the curl of hair falling into his eyes as he watches my fingers wrap around the glass. I notice how his breath hitches a bit as I lean towards him and bring the scotch to my lips. I notice that I feel every muscle in my stomach and thighs when I shift my weight on the chair, and the slight burn of the liquid as it moves down my throat. Little things. Mostly I feel that sensual self awareness that comes from knowing someone’s eyes are on me – eyes that I actually want to be watching me.

“I’ll let you know,” I tell him.

“I’ll be right here,” he says, a kind of goofy lilt to his voice.

Which is perfect, because I don’t want this to feel like a big, serious moment; this reawakening of my finally, finally feeling sexy again after so long. It should be a little silly, a little lighthearted! In fact, that’s part of what does it for me. The few, rare times I viscerally connect with someone, it’s because they’ve made me laugh first. And I realize that’s why I’m attracted to this guy…because he did something completely goofy yet sharply funny (a woefully rare combo) earlier and made me laugh – like, really laugh, from down in my belly. Had, in fact, done so several times throughout the evening. He has, actually, this kind of upbeat, silly but witty, whipsmart vibe about him that just positively reeks of happiness. It is utterly charming, and so, so very sexy. And a far cry from the usual, darkly depressive brooding but witty types I usually go for.

And that told me something even more important – that I’ve finally come back enough from the dark where I can appreciate a person like that, who emits so much joy, can exude such a sense of life, and who can make me really, really laugh. Laugh without irony.

From there, all the rest follows. And maybe, there’s hope for me yet.

#aspd #crazy love #covid crazy #brain cooties #take your meds

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runawayforthesummer · 7 years

Text

Chapter 8: Reconnaissance

We’re now in February of 1780

Eliza is on her way to Morristown, NJ. A sacred site that Melissa de la Cruz is going to piss all over, I imagine.

So that we know she’s still insensitive and only thinks of herself, Eliza opens the heavy curtain in her carriage to look out.

“Miss Schuyler, please!” Her chaperone, Mrs. Jantzen, cried, a nervous woman who always seemed to be huffing at something. “You are letting out all the heat!”

Um team Mrs. Jantzen! That was one of the coldest winters ever. Don’t be a jerk and let all the heat out, Eliza! My god!

But according to Eliza, it’s “akin to a hot stove.” On top of that, Mrs. Jantzen has a whale oil perfume she’s fond of that Eliza hates.

“How much farther is it to Morristown?”

Mrs. Jantzen rolled her eyes and huffed once more. She reached into the folds of the fur spread over her lap and pulled out an imaginary map, unfolding it with theatrical fastidiousness.

“Let me see, let me see. Yes, here we are,” she said, stabbing a gloved finger into thin air. “It is exactly seventeen miles and three feet.”

TEAM MRS. JANTZEN.

I bet she’s only huffing at shit because she’s stuck on this journey with a spoiled brat! Get this woman a foot massage and a mimosa!

Catharine was supposed to accompany Eliza, we learn, but she fell ill and of course Eliza argued she should go alone. Her mother wouldn’t hear of it and that’s how we ended up with my favorite character ever, Mrs. Jantzen. Thanks, Catharine!

Anyway, we get a little exposition on Aunt Gertrude and Dr. Cochran and Eliza tries to get all gory about Dr. Cochran’s job to upset Mrs. Jantzen. Why is Eliza so awful?

Ok, and I can Tell the author went to the Schuyler-Hamilton House in Morristown based on her description of how Dr. Cochran plans to inoculate the soldiers. lol. I mean, nice try at researching. I’m glad you did something.

Of course, this is also the real reason Eliza wanted to go: to help her Aunt and Uncle with caring for the soldiers, which she felt was the only thing she could do as a woman.

Her parents, of course, did not want her to go, even when she promised it would be safe because General Washington would be there.

The mention of General Washington had not endeared Eliza’s plan to Mrs. Schuyler.

WHAT THE HELL?! Washington and Schuyler were extremely close. Like, Washington was the one to tell Schuyler Hamilton was a suitable match for his daughter. Washington was godfather to one of their kids!

It’s all over this stupid court-martial, which de la Cruz doesn’t even understand. This is so stupid.

There is enough drama in these people’s lives without all this unnecessary bullshit!

Almost as an afterthought Mrs. Schuyler had warned Eliza, “I suppose that foul Colonel Hamilton will be there as well.”

EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT EXACTLY DID HE DO?! You made him sleep in a barn!!! This terrible, terrible family.

Colonel Hamilton had served as clerk to the prosecution during [Schuyler’s] trial.

No he didn’t.

It was yet another honor for one so young, but clerking for the prosecutor had supposedly caused him great pain, given his regard for the Schuyler family and his belief in General Schuyler’s innocence. He had written as much in a letter to General Schuyler, but Eliza’s father insisted on his presence.

So why all the hate for him? JFC. This book makes Catharine seem so goddamn irrational. It’s infuriating.

Of course, Catharine relents so that Eliza might find herself a hubby.

“There will be any number of unmarried officers in Morristown. Perhaps you will meet a suitable bachelor to replace the one who courted you so diligently and turned away.”

Her mother was talking about Major John Andre, the British officer who had strived to win her hand. Eliza had been a bit infatuated with him for a while, but in the end had turned down his suit.

Ok….I really doubt that her parents were cool with a British officer courting her but whatever.

Also I’m guessing Andre got sick of her shit and ran.

Perhaps she was too much of a patriot to accept the man, unlike Angelica, who was holding steady with Mr. Church, despite his having left her and the country without proposing.

CHURCH WAS NOT ON THE SIDE OF THE BRITISH OMFG.

Also….what the hell?!?!

All of this is so wrong.

Almost three years after her illustrious ball, Mrs. Schuyler was irritated to find her three oldest daughters still unmarried and mentioned this unfortunate state of affairs often.

Except Angelica was married with two children already.

YOU KNOW you could still have Catharine putting a lot of pressure on Eliza and Peggy to give her a “real” wedding and a “real” marriage after Angelica eloping. Like, again, you can get your point across without having to go this stupid way.

Eliza goes back to bitching about how long this carriage ride is when a wheel breaks on their carriage and the women are forced to get out and stand on the road.

Of course Eliza can’t resist jumping from the carriage because she’s such a goddamn iconoclast.

There’s an attempt at humor as Mrs. Jantzen sprains her ankle (my poor baby) getting out of the carriage and, with the wheel broken and unfixable, they are forced to ride the horses the five miles to Morristown. But there are only two horses!

A half hour later, Mrs. Jantzen lay awkwardly across one of the horses, tied onto it like a saddlebag and covered in a voluminous fur, so that she looked like a bear carcass being brought in from a hunt.

SOMEONE FREE MY WIFE FROM THIS INDIGNITY SHE DOESN’T DESERVE.

Anyway, there’s talk about Eliza walking to town or whatever because she’s so free and independent and likes to fight with every goddamn person she encounters about every goddamn thing.

Thankfully, they hear a horse coming!

Can we all say together that we know it’s Hamilton on that horse? Yes. Please. Thank you.

The only part of his face that was visible, however, was a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at her—almost, she could have sworn, with amusement.

Yes, Eliza, you’re near Morristown. Where you know he is. Put it together.

Meanwhile, Hamilton should keep the fuck riding and leave her alone.

“Looks like we’ve had an accident.” The mirth was audible in the words as well as visible in the eyes.

“Sorry to say we have,” the coachman replied. “And our precious Mrs. Jantzen has injured her ankle. I would if perhaps you could give our Miss Schuyler the use of your horse.”

“Oh, I’d be happy to give the daughter of General Schuyler a lift,” the scarved figured answered. “That is, if Eliza does not object.”

And it seriously takes her this long to figure it out.

The soldier pulled back his scarf then, revealing a shadow of reddish stubble. Eliza’s hand flew to her mouth.

It was Colonel Alexander Hamilton.

Hope he takes you to a barn and leaves you there!

#alex & eliza a love story #melissa de la cruz #live blogging

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bornasghosts7165 · 7 years

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All I Want: Part 10

Previous Part

“Pardon?” Liam says.

You reach over and pull out one of his headphones from his ear. Liam look at you in surprise. He closed his book and sat up straighter. He looked at you with his full attention, partially because he was curious as to what you would say and partially because being around you at all seemed to make him perk up just a little bit. You’ve only spoken about twice, but you notice both times that Liam seemed to be more alive than when you were just watching from afar. There was still something off with him, but there was no mistaking this sudden burst of energy that Liam seemed to get whenever he was around you for anything else. You knew because the same thing happened when you were together, regardless the state of your relationship. It was usually accompanied with that smile that you loved, but that didn’t come. He simply sat motionless waiting for you to begin again.

“How did you know about the panic attacks?” You asked again. “How did you know how to help?”

You were pretty familiar with the act of having panic attacks, but still not entire sure of the best way to end them. You were usually a little too preoccupied with the whole not being able to breath thing to really give it some thought. Liam, however, was in and out and your panic attack was done as if it hadn’t even happened. It didn’t make a lot of sense, and if you were honest you were dying to know the secret, and how Liam in particular knew the secret.

“Uh, well,” Liam began, as began fidgeting in his seat and broke eye contact.

“And don’t give me any of that ‘I know you best’ bullshit.” You tell him. “I want a real answer.”

He looks up at you with a look of slight anger. His brow was furrowed, and you could tell you struck a chord.

“I’ve had panic attacks.” Liam said plainly.

For some reason, you weren’t expecting that answer. You didn’t know why you thought someone like Liam was incapable of having a panic attack; you must have a tribute it to the whole ‘Liam is evil’ sentiment, but you were learning little by little that there might have been more to him than that. You were shocked to hear those words come out of this mouth, and felt bad that you had no idea.

“I know.” Liam said. “Weird to think that a bad guy like me could have feelings.”

It was like he was reading your mind, which only made you feel worse. Panic attacks weren’t something you would wish on your worst enemy, no matter how they had treated you. But you had to wonder what Liam could be panicking about. Being a huge douche? Maybe. Something told you it was much more complex, especially given Liam’s countenance. He looked serious; as he did most of the time these days. He also looked like he didn’t really want to talk about it, even after following you around begging to talk to you. Looked like even Liam had things he didn’t want to talk about. Normally, you would take a hint and drop it, but it seemed like something you should talk about given that your attacks seemed to be triggered by Liam.

“Uh, I didn’t know that.” You say approaching with caution.

“Well, it’s like I said: there’s a lot you don’t know.” Liam said.

“When did they start?” You ask, wanting to know more.

“Three years ago.”

“You mean two years ago.” You correct, assuming they happened are the same time as yours.

“No, I mean three. Maybe three and a half.”

“We were together three years ago.”

“Yeah.”

You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. How could you not have noticed Liam having panic attacks? They were bad enough and frequent enough that he had devised a way to handle them, yet somehow you had no idea that they were happening at all. Three years ago, and you Liam were in the thick of it. You were touring a lot, and it was before the arguing started. You knew that something was off, but not something like this. Were you that oblivious?

“I didn’t know.” You say, feeling guilty.

Liam shrugs. “You weren’t really around.”

Was he guilt tripping you? Were you seriously having this conversation right now? It should have been ancient history by now. So, why was Liam looking you like he did back when he wanted you to take a break from touring? Was this the reason? Was he really having that much trouble with you being away?

“You could have said something.” You tell him.

“Could I have?” Liam asked. “You seemed kind of preoccupied.”

“So that’s why you cheated on me?” You ask. “Because I was busy?”

“(Y/N), come on. Don’t put words in my mouth. It’s a lot more complex than that.” Liam says. “You asked when I got the attacks and I told you.”

When did Liam become the one that was holding a grudge? Since when was he the one scorned and heart broken. It had appeared you had switched roles and you weren’t even aware of it or happy about it.

“All I’m saying is that my whole life you were there and then you weren’t. It was kind of hard on me.” Liam says, sensing that you were having a hard time wrapping your head about it all.

Liam described his heartbreak the same way you described yours. Liam was your whole life and when he wasn’t it was jarring. You didn’t know what to do, and apparently neither did Liam. The only difference is that apparently; Liam’s heart had broken a lot sooner than yours had. Again, how could you not notice? You knew Liam wanted you to take some time off, and you would be more than willing if you know the extent of the problem. You figured it was more than likely that Liam didn’t want to guilt you into anything, and have you resent him, but that wasn’t your relationship. You and Liam were as close as two people could be. You could have done anything for him back then if he really needed you. With this small amount of information, you suddenly found yourself rethinking the details of your separation. You didn’t want to argue either, but you were having a hard time understanding all this, which was making you more frustrated with Liam’s reappearance. Clearly, there really were some things you didn’t know.

“I don’t understand, Liam.” You say, feeling overwhelmed.

Liam looks down the hall at Harry and Maddie sitting at the table, completely oblivious to the potential game changing information you were receiving. Should you tell them? Harry apparently didn’t want to know anything, but was this different? Was this something you should tell him? You didn’t really have all the information yet. Perhaps you should wait until you know everything, and decide how you feel about it before telling anyone. This is all so confusing and you weren’t sure where you stood with all of it.

“Is this really the best place for this conversation?” He asked, knowing that your relationship was not entirely common knowledge.

“Never a bad time to be in the loop. Which apparently, I am not.” You say, not willing to put a hold on this conversation.

“It is what it is, (Y/N). You left, I stayed, it wasn’t great, and here we are.” Liam says.

“So, it’s my fault this all happened?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying either.” He answers, getting as frustrated as you were.

You could tell that he was holding back some, and so were you. If you weren’t in mix company, there would probably be a lot more yelling on both end.

“So, what are you saying then Liam?” You ask again, desperately trying to get a grasp on it without yelling.

“I’m saying,” He pauses, looking for the right words. “We just…fell apart. We were young, it was hard, and we just fell apart.”

That was putting it mildly. It was more like a volcano building up until it finally erupted. But he was right. You were young, and it was unbelievably hard. It was hard being away from Liam, and then it was hard keeping your relationship together. And it was even harder when it ended. But now you were learning that it wasn’t just hard for you, which was making you reevaluate everything. This of course didn’t excuse the cheating, but maybe it made Liam seem less like a villain, you a little more like a villain. Or maybe no one was the villain and you were both victims. All this reevaluating was already giving you a headache.

“Hey,” Liam says, getting you to refocus on him. “Just because we fell apart doesn’t mean that I didn’t love you any less. It doesn’t mean that I don’t still love you.”

“You can’t say that to me.” You say and shake your head.

“I didn’t come here to not be honest.” Liam replies.

“I suppose you came to get me back, then?” You ask.

Finally, you were going to get the answer to the question you’d been asking for weeks now. You needed to know why Liam was here, especially after this conversation. He still loved you? What were you supposed to do with that? What was he planning to do about it? Now you were worried, and this was only the beginning of the conversations you needed to have with Liam. You couldn’t understand him keeping something like panic attacks from you, and you couldn’t understand why you didn’t notice it on your own. Something told you that the past that you remembered wasn’t the whole story, and you desperately needed the whole story.

“I-” Liam began, only to be cut off by Maddie.

“Hey, crew meeting up front you guys.” She says.

You could kill her for interrupting the conversation. You could not catch a break. Looks like the answers would have to wait. The tour, just like the past, was getting in between yours and Liam’s relationship even on this level. Liam stood up and joined the rest of the crew, leaving you and Maddie in the back.

“What was that?” Maddie ask you, with a skeptical look on her face.

“You know, I’m really not sure.” You tell her.

“Everything okay?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” You answer.

“Should I be worried?” She asks.

You look over at Harry who was now talking to Louis. He was completely in the dark and that made you feel sick to your stomach. You had to tell him something. You couldn’t keep letting Harry talk you out of having the conversation that so desperately needed to be had. You loved Harry and you couldn’t keep secrets from him that way that Liam apparently did from you. Tonight, you would tell him what happened between you and Liam, regardless of what he thought he needed to know. Your relationship would be stronger because of it. You were going to take control and you weren’t going to let anyone worry about the state of your relationship with Harry; not even yourself.

“(Y/N)?” Maddie said again. “Should I be worried?”

“No.” You answer.

#one direction #one direction imagines #one direction one shot #one direction fanfiction #liam payne #liam payne one shot #liam payne fanfiction #liam payne imagines #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction

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