#also i hope this makes sense because I've never written down some of that before

[sarahs-library]

hi! i hope your having a good day 😊 you said you were taking requests so i have one if you dont mind! could you do something were az and reader are interrupted after they accept the bond by someone, maybe elain and she's upset and it causes issues? thanks!

Hey,

This is my first request so please be gentle with me if it isn't exactly what you were looking for. Also I'm sorry this sat in my inbox for so long, I wasn't sure exactly how to go about writing this one; I eventually decided on making it as dramatic as possible. 😅 So in true form, this is written mostly from our drama king Rhys' POV but there is some Reader POV fluff at the end. I wasn't sure where you stood with smut, so I've kept it relatively open to interpretation at the end.

Get Out!

Maybe being so secretive about your relationship with Azriel wasn't the best idea after all.

Word count: 5,090

Rhys POV

Rhys adjusted his grip on the blade in his hand as it clashed with Cassian's, the keen of metal against metal filled the training room. Sweat burned his eyes as he heaved air into his lungs. Cassian's grin bordered on feral as they separated, circling each other. Rhys hadn't realised how long it had been since he'd trained properly, but he could feel it in the ache of his muscles.

"Fatherhood making you soft, Rhys?"

Rhys rolled his eyes, hoping that Cassian didn't notice he couldn't muster more of a response between gasped breaths and fending off his attacks. They'd been at it for hours. Cassian was right, in between High Lord duties and trying to spend every possible moment with his son, resolute on not missing a single milestone, Rhys had certainly neglected his training regime. And now his brother was making him pay for it.

A blade whistled dangerously close to his face. Rhys managed to bring his own up in time to stop the blow as the force of it reverberated down his arm. He ducked out of Cassian's reach, staying firmly on the defensive while his brother eyed him with mirth. Cassian made a show of surveying Rhys slowly as he began to advance again, eyes trailing down his body and settling for a moment on the tight muscles of his abdomen. He clucked his tongue in disapproval.

"Just because Feyre loves you, doesn't mean you can let yourself go so much." Rhys dodged as Cassian swung towards his side, levelling him with a strike of his own which was blocked with ease. Cassian smirked at him as their blades locked, Rhys bared his teeth in a snarl as he forced Cassian's blade back.

A gentle caress against the fortress of his mental shields stole his attention away from his brother for a moment. Cassian smacked the flat face of his sword against Rhys' thigh, a strike that would likely leave a nasty bruise. Rhys opened the antechamber in his mind, built like a house of worship over the foundations of his mating bond with Feyre. He managed to send a small, gentle caress in return before he was drawn back to avoiding Cassian's blade.

Rhys, where are you? There was an undercurrent of worry flowing down the bond to him. It took his attention immediately. He signalled to Cassian, lowering his blade and taking a deep breath.

Training with Cass at the House. What's wrong? He was already moving as he answered, racking the blunted practice sword and retrieving his shirt from where it had been tossed earlier in the session. Cassian mimicked his movements before heading to the pitcher of water to pour two glasses.

It's Elain, something's happened.

What?

She's inconsolable. She says...that Y/N attacked her.  Surprise sparked in Rhys.

Are you sure? It didn't make any sense. You were so gentle. A junior healer under Madja's tutelage, brought in to assist with Feyre's pregnancy. You'd been visiting the River House regularly to do milestone checks on Nyx. During that time, both he and Feyre had struck up a friendship with you. He'd never seen you so much as raise your voice.

It's all she's said to us, Nesta is furious. Rhys' eyes drifted to where Cassian stood, gulping down his glass of water.

"We're needed at the River House."

Cassian raised a brow at the seriousness of the tone as he moved across the training room towards his brother.

"What happened?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. But we should get back before Nesta goes on the warpath." Cassian considered for a moment before taking to the skies, seemingly spurred by whatever he felt down his mating bond. Rhys launched himself after his brother before sending a reassuring message to his own mate.

We're on our way.

Elain sat nestled next to Feyre on the sofa. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief as her sister rubbed soothing circles on her back. Nesta was pacing in front of the fireplace, the swish of her dress and hard clack of her heels against the hardwood felt too loud in the otherwise silent room. Rhys stood for a moment in the doorway, assessing the scene in front of him as Cassian passed him to join Nesta. She ignored him, continuing to pace.

Rhys approached his mate and Elain, settling himself on the arm of the sofa at Feyre's side. He casts an assessing gaze over the middle Archeron sister. Her other arm, the one not wiping at her face, was laid in her lap as Feyre held a compress of ice over the wrist.

Rhys let out a low sigh, running his hands through his hair as he worked through possible avenues of action. He reopened his mental connection with Feyre.

Has she said anything else? Feyre turned away from her sister where she sat staring into space.

No, Madja's on her way though. It's strange, she said she hasn't seen Y/N in days, she was supposed to be visiting her family in the Day Court. None of this makes any sense, why would Y/N do this?

Unease sat heavily in Rhys' stomach. Could something have happened to you on your travels? He thought of Braillyn and the manipulation the crown had afforded her over the minds of others. The Dread Trove was safe, was this a different horror Koschei was responsible for? Was he trying to target his family through you? It would make sense, you visited the River House regularly and both he and Feyre had left Nyx unattended in your care on more than one occasion.

He felt Madja's approach as she let herself in, inclining her head towards himself and Feyre where they sat. She settled herself on Elain's other side, reaching for her arm. Feyre moved her hand and the compress away, revealing a slight bruising and swelling on the skin underneath.

"We need to find her, she can't just attack Elain like this." Nesta's voice cut sharp as a blade across the room, Elain's tears starting fresh at her words. Madja lifted her gaze from where she was assessing Elain's wrist, tilting her hand in gentle exercises to assess the range of movement.

"Perhaps you can continue this discussion outside?" Rhys caught the pointed look the healer gave him. He nodded, standing and placing his hand on the small of Feyre's back as she did the same. Nesta watched them for a moment before stomping towards the door; disappearing into the foyer.

Feyre shot him a look, grey-blue eyes filled with worry as they moved to follow her out. Nesta continued to pace outside the room as they shut the door, the low sound of Madja's soothing voice travelling through the wood.

"We have to do something."

"Nesta, we shouldn't do anything rash." Feyre's voice was firm as she addressed her, switching smoothly from comforting sister to High Lady of the Night Court. "Not until we have more information."

"Well she," Nesta gestured towards the closed door and her distressed sister, "isn't saying anything. So I say we find Y/N and get her to tell us what happened."

Rhys was inclined to agree, but held some reservations as to what exactly Nesta deemed an appropriate method of finding out information when it pertained to the middle Archeron sister.

"Feyre's right, we shouldn't be hasty about this." He met Nesta's eyes, filled with burning silver fire. "You're too close to this," he continued. "Why don't you go back to the House, blow off some steam and we'll discuss this later when we know the full story." Cassian moved closer to Nesta's side, a comforting hand on her arm as she stared Rhys down. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another. Rhys recognised the mind-stilling technique she favoured to keep her grounded.

Her eyes were still bright with anger when she opened them again, but she seemed calmer than she had been before. She gave a small nod. Cassian tucked her under an arm as they made their way to the front door.

"We'll send for you when we know something." Cassian nodded to Rhys over his shoulder but Nesta didn't turn back to look at either of them. The door closed with a thud behind them.

Feyre looked at where her sister and brother-in-law stood a moment before. She turned, making her way down the hall Rhys study.

"What do you think we should do?"

"I'll search the city for her, we could send a note? Ask her to meet us both?" Feyre nodded in agreement.

"We should make contact with Az." Rhys considered, reluctant to disturb his brother when he'd asked for a rare week off to visit his mother in Illyria. The request had been sudden and abrupt. Az had sent word close to midnight a few days prior. He hadn't written much, other than he needed some time away from his duties and that he'd reach out to Rhys later on in the week. He had been concerned at the out of character behaviour, apprehensive that something serious must have happened. Azriel had evaded requests for more information; saying that he'd brief Rhys on his return.

"When we know more," he paused with Feyre on the threshold of the study. "I don't want to call him back when it may turn out to be nothing serious."

Feyre hummed in agreement.

"I just...I don't understand, why would she do something like this? We gave her access to our son, Rhys. She didn't seem..." Feyre trailed off. Before she could continue the sound of a throat clearing came from the kitchen door. They turned in tandem, both sets of eyes fixed on the twins that appeared out of the shadows there.

"We...We think this may be our fault." Nuala's voice was quiet as she spoke for both of them, hands clasped together tightly as they stood before their High Lord and Lady.

"How could this possibly be your fault?" Feyre didn't hide the surprise in her tone. Their dark eyes were unreadable but Rhys didn't miss the glance they both gave towards the closed door where Elain still sat with Madja.

He opened the door to the office, gesturing in invitation to the twins to follow Feyre and him in.

Rhys sat in the high-backed chair behind the desk, Feyre perched on his lap as they listened to Nuala and Cerridwen's tale.

"Azriel instructed us not to tell anyone where he was when he sent word. She saw us putting together a basket, asked us who it was for. We didn't see any harm in telling her we were making it for him," Cerridwen's face was grave as she spoke. "Elain wanted to help, so we baked the bread together. She went to the garden after that, and Nuala left to deliver it."

"I know she didn't follow," Nuala cut in, her voice shaking. "I would have noticed if she had."

"Perhaps she saw where you went in one of her visions?" Feyre supplied. She bestowed her a small comforting smile, Rhys could feel her sympathy for the twins through the bond. They cared about Elain; even without his daemati powers you could read the guilt they shared.

"But it was here? In Velaris?" Rhys asked. Nuala looked at her twin, a silent conversation happening between them, before she nodded her head. Rhys' stomach turned to lead. Azriel had lied to him about where he was. Rhys knew that Azriel had his secrets, maybe more than anyone else in the Inner Circle. But he'd never known him to be overtly dishonest, not with his family.

"What happened after that?" Feyre's voice was gentle as she pushed for more information.

None of this makes any sense.

I know. Feyre squeezed his hand, the one that she had clasped between both of her own beneath the desk, as she sent reassuring waves down the bond.

"We were both preparing lunch after that. We didn't see her again, until you did." Feyre had shown him the memory as he'd flown towards the house. Elain bursting through the front door, arm clutched to her chest and tears streaming down her face. She hadn't said anything as Nesta had taken her into her arms, demanding to know what had happened.

"Would it be possible that Elain met Y/N on the way to...where Azriel is?" Feyre addressed the question to the room but it was Cerridwen that answered her.

"I don't think so, my lady. It's...out of the way, you wouldn't stumble upon it by accident." Rhys didn't miss the look Nuala sent her, dark eyes on fire. Cerridwen sunk back into her chair, realising that perhaps she'd said too much. Rhys pressed though, he couldn't leave it.

"So that would mean that either Y/N followed Elain from the house on purpose or she was there? With Azriel?"He suspected it was the latter, and the twins certainly knew more about it than they were willing to share. They both looked down, pointedly avoiding Rhys' gaze.

"We promised, my lord."

"We could do it together if you want?" Feyre's hand toyed at his neck, tracing the Illyrian tattoos etched into the skin. They'd dismissed Nuala and Cerridwen back to their duties while they discussed the next step to take. They had both agreed that reaching out to Azriel was the best course of action, to follow the lead of his potential involvement before they took any further steps concerning you.

Rhys was torn. He wanted Feyre to be involved, but it felt too personal. Azriel hadn't lied to her. But he had to him, his brother, his High Lord. Azriel, whom he had always trusted. Feyre would moderate his temper, if the need arose, but a dark volatile part of him didn't want that.

A quiet knock sounded on the door. Feyre called out for Madja to enter, already sensing her standing on the other side. Her smile was reassuring as she moved to stand in front of them at the desk.

"A nasty sprain, but no broken bones." Some of the tension seemed to leave Feyre's shoulders as she let out a relieved sigh. "I've recommended she rest it, keep it elevated," Madja continued, "it should be back to normal within a few days."

"Thank you Madja, we appreciate you coming out of you way." Feyre's tone was warm as she spoke to the elderly fae.

"It's my pleasure, my lady."

"Did Elain say anything to you? About what happened?"

Madja frowned, before shaking her head. "Nothing that made much sense. She mentioned a door and being pushed, she didn't say any more than that." Madja took a step closer to the desk, worrying the fabric of the apron she wore between her fingers.

"If I may..." She paused, waiting for further invitation to speak. Rhys gestured with a hand for her to continue.

"I've known Y/N since she was a girl," Madja's voice wavered as she spoke, in all the years Rhys had known her he'd never seen her close to tears before. "She wouldn't do something like this it's not in her nature," Madja paused before quickly adding, "not to discredit your sister, High Lady." Rhys watched Feyre as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she listened to the healer.

"This situation is highly unusual, Madja. We need to speak to the parties involved, gather more information." Rhys speech was clinical, playing High Lord rather than concerned brother-in-law.

"I'll take my leave then."

I should see to Elain. Feyre slipped off his lap with a parting brush of her lips against his cheek before following Madja out of the room. Rhys rested his elbows on the desk in front of him and lowered his head into his hands.

After taking a few minutes to collect himself Rhys began using his power to comb through the city, brushing past the minds of his citizens as they went about their daily lives. It took longer than he thought, identifying the distinct signature of his brother, as recognisable to him as his own after 500 years. Cloistered on the outskirts of the city, the surrounding land reserved for farming crops with very few residences. He felt another presence there, one less familiar to him, yours.

Rhys brushed a talon against Azriel's mental shields, a teeming cluster of darkness not unlike the shadows he wielded, and waited. The tick of the clock as the seconds passed by had Rhys on edge, he was considering pushing again, this time more firmly, when the shadows created a small opening just big enough for him to slip through.

Rhys didn't bother with a greeting. His mental voice was harsh, more than he meant it to be, as it reverberated around the dark antechamber.

You have ten seconds to explain why you are not in Illyria, and why my mate is consoling her injured sister before I come and find you, and we have this conversation in person. Conversation was a very polite term to use for what would inevitably become a battle of wills, and potentially blades, between the High Lord and his Spymaster.

Don't you fucking dare, Rhys. Azriel's voice was ice. The hostile rage that bubbled underneath shook Rhys out of his own for a moment. It was like its own living thing, driven by base instincts to defend against a threat at all costs. The force of it almost pushed him out. Rhys bridled his own surprise and rage down.

Okay, Rhys' voice was soothing, carried on a night-kissed wind. I won't do that Az, but you need to talk to me.

The storm of Azriel's emotions seemed to calm a little, Rhys could feel the effort he was putting in, wrestling for control that was usually so militant. He waited for his brother to speak for a few moments before continuing.

Why don't you start with where you are, and why Nuala and Cerridwen are involved?

He thought that Azriel was going to hold fast in his reticence. Instead his voice, missing some of the frigid quality it had before, answered after a few beats.

I own a property on the outskirts of the city, I've been here since I sent word asking for leave. Azriel paused before continuing, Nuala and Cerridwen were just doing what I asked, they don't need to be a part of this. Rhys should have expected this. Azriel always knew how to toe the line between answering what was asked without giving any substantial information.

And what is it that you asked them to do for you? Because they wouldn't tell us, because of some promise they made to you.

They delivered some supplies to me.

Supplies?

Food and other basic necessities.

And is there a reason you couldn't retrieve these for yourself? Why you're sequestered away in some property we're unaware of with one of our healers? Rhys tried to press against the walls of Azriel's mind to see what else he could feel or sense but it yielded nothing. Are you injured Az? Worry bloomed. As out of character as it was for Azriel to lie to his family, if it was because he was injured and didn't want any of them to know, to worry, Rhys could rationalise that.

No. Rhys could feel Azriel's attention, drawn away to whatever was going in outside his mind, still only half maintaining their communication. Is Elain okay?

Are you talking to Y/N? I know she's there with you.

Azriel hesitated before answering. Yes.

Elain is saying that Y/N attacked her, is that true? Did you see what happened?

I did, but it was an accident Rhys. She didn't mean to.

She says she was pushed. I'm not sure how that can be considered an accident, Azriel. Rhys tried to keep a handle on his agitation, but this conversation was going nowhere quickly. Why don't you show me what happened, then we can put this whole thing to bed.

A tidal wave rose, angry and biting as it chased Rhys towards the gap in the barrier he entered from. Rhys retreated back from it, shocked by it's sudden appearance.

No. Azriel's snarled response rebounded around his head.

Fine, I'll take it up with Y/N if this is how you're going to act.

Wait, don't. The emotion receded as quickly as it came, leaving Rhys toeing the edge of the empty chamber. Leave her out of this Rhys, it's my fault.

Oh? She's assaulted a member of our Court, Azriel.

She's my mate, Rhys. Rhys thought for a moment that he hadn't heard him correctly. But it made sense, the instinctual frenzy of emotion that seemed eager to slip his brother's control. We didn't tell you in the beginning, we wanted to get to know each other without any added...pressure.

Az, this is wonderful news...unexpected but wonderful. But we wouldn't have pressured you, either of you, into anything.

I know, I just...I was being selfish, Rhys. And we were so caught up in each other. I said I'd talk to you when I got back, I was going to tell you then. Rhys didn't hide the happiness he felt, letting his brother feel it freely, It was a bit spur of the moment, deciding to accept the bond. That's why I asked Nuala and Cerridwen for help, they knew where we were.

I'm happy for you, Az. Rhys allowed himself to bask for a moment in the joy that he could feel from his brother as he spoke about you. A part of him wanted to leave then, to retreat from his brother's mind and leave him to enjoy this special, if volatile time, as a newly mated male. But there was still a piece of this puzzle missing. What happened with Elain?

It is my fault Rhys, I should have sensed her coming. But we were preoccupied. Azriel's discomfort put Rhys own teeth on edge as he continued. We were in the living room and Elain opened the door, Y/N panicked and slammed it with gust of wind.

Panicked?

We were...indisposed.

You're joking, Rhys barely managed to choke the words out as he tried to contain his laughter.

Its not funny, Rhysand. He could almost see his brother grinding his teeth in agitation. By the time we made ourselves decent, Elain had already left. I was going to come to the house to see if she was okay, but Y/N is really upset that she may have hurt her. Rhys understood what he didn't say, that he couldn't leave his mate like that.

Tell her it's just a sprain, nothing serious.

That's a relief. If we're done here- Rhy's didn't allow Azriel to finish, already taking his leave.

Rhys watched the sun set set over the Sidra as he ruminated on the strange events the day had taken, and how he was going to defuse the tension from this morning before Azriel returned, likely with Y/N in tow.

Your POV

Steam curled into the air from the water of the bath. The heat soothed the ache in your muscles, ones that you didn't even know you had were making their displeasure known, as you adjusted your position to lean back against Azriel. His arm slipped around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest as scarred fingers traced circles over your midriff. You sighed in contentment as Azriel continued his ministrations, feeling his smile against the skin of you neck. He brushed the sensitive skin with a delicate kiss. Neither of you spoke as you sat there, enjoying the comfortable silence and basking in the feeling of the new golden thread that tied you together.

Azriel reached to the edge of the tub where the basket of toiletries lay, filled with your favourite scents curtesy of the shadow wraith twins, and grabbed a soft cloth and a bar of sweet smelling soap. You groaned as he began to gently massage the lather on the cloth into the skin of arms and shoulders, adjusting slightly to give him better access. You turned your head, resting it in the cradle of Azriel's shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes.

Over the few months that you'd known him, you'd come to admire his stoic beauty. Rich hazel eyes framed by thick lashes and dark brows. His sharp features and full lips that erupted butterflies in your stomach every time he gifted you with an alluring smile or tantalising smirk. As your relationship had progressed he'd become more open is displaying his emotions with you, less prone to cloaking himself in his shadows. But you'd never in that time seen such open contentment displayed on his features.

You watched as his eyes tracked the path his hand drew with the cloth against your body. You brought a hand out of the warm cocoon of the water to trace the map of markings across his shoulders, following the trail up his neck with tender kisses. Azriel's chest rumbled his approval. The flare of his wings sent ripples across the surface of the bath as you let a soft breath out against the delicate shell of his ear.

"It appears my little mate is rather insatiable." Azriel sighed, feigning exasperation as he moved the cloth lower, down off your shoulders to brush the top of your breasts.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The hand on his shoulder reached to brush a single fingertip against the sensitive membrane of a wing as you smirked into his neck.

"Careful." Azriel growled, taking the circles he was tracing on your midriff dangerously lower. Even though the past few days had been filled with nothing but Azriel, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your tongue, there was a burning pit of desire that demanded more. You felt as though you could live a thousand more years and never tire of the feeling of him holding you in his arms. The thought of leaving the little bubble of bliss you'd created here was like a cold water shock. Thinking of the potential repercussions you'd face of what happened earlier left the sting of bile in the back of your mouth.

Azriel's hands stilled as he sensed the shift in your mood. You buried your face into his neck, closing your eyes and letting his scent calm your racing heart. Azriel abandoned the cloth to place his hand on the back of you head, carting his fingers through your hair. He made a low soothing noise.

"It's okay," he continued to massage his fingers against your scalp as he spoke. "It was an accident, no one is going to blame you."

"Elain will, she probably hates me." Your voice broke as you tried to hold back the guilt that had been plaguing you, such a start contrast to the joy and ravenous hunger.

"She'll understand. The others will too, Rhys actually found it very amusing."

"Oh cauldron boil me." You could imagine it now, the smirking good natured jibes from the high-lord and the likely even less subtle innuendos his general would deal out to you.

"Come on," the fingers dancing through your hair stopped. "Look at me." Part of you wanted to continue to hide as the anxiety and embarrassment coiled inside of you, but as Azriel moved to cup your cheek you lifted your face away to look at him. His eyes were soft as he took in your face, so close that you could see flecks of green and gold constellating around the iris. His thumb rubbed gently against you cheek.

"I just want to stay here for the rest of our lives." Azriel smiled gently and hummed his agreement, leaning forward to press his lips against the skin of your forehead.

"Unfortunately, I think we'll be missed." He considered for a moment before adding. "And I wouldn't put it past Cassian to break down the door and drag me back to civilised society." You loosed a small smile at his attempt to make light of the situation, but it still did nothing to quell the apprehension and doubts.

You'd so desperately wanted to make a good impression. It had all been planned out. After the week was done; once you and Azriel had returned to your normal lives, he would have announced the mating bond to his family. You'd planned to host a dinner, let them get to know you outside your capacity as a healer. Hoped to create the foundations for meaningful relationships. Instead, you'd ruined it before you'd even started, injuring the High Lady's sister and forcing Azriel to do damage control on your behalf.

"I'm just...I'm sorry Az, I know how important your family is to you. I can't believe I've screwed this up."

"They are important to me." He agreed, thumb stroking gently against your face. "But so are you. I've waited centuries to find you, and you're so much more than I dreamed you'd be." Tears welled in your eyes at his declaration. "I love you, and I know my family will love you too." You reached up to capture his lips in a delicate kiss, despite the gravity of the situation feeling his lips quirk into a smile against your own made your heart sing. You parted, and he began to trail kisses across your cheek.

"Rhys and Feyre already like you, they trust you with Nyx. Everyone else will fall victim to your charming smile and witty sense of humour, I'm sure." He murmured in your ear as he traced his nose against the soft skin of your neck.

"We'll face them together when the time comes." He whispered the promise into your skin as he paved a line of tender kisses to a particularly sensitive spot he'd discovered in the last few days, taking extra care to pay it the most attention.

You sighed and arched your back, allowing him greater access to your neck and chest. Azriel's affirmations had quelled the storm within you, leaving heat and hunger in the wake of his lips.

"But, we've got a few days before anyone is expecting us back. And I have plans for you." Azriel's voice turned husky at the end, the heady promise made your toes curl as you pressed yourself closer against him.

"Oh?" You breathed as his lips began to chart a course across your chest, skimming across the tops of your breasts. You felt more than heard as he hummed an affirmation against the delicate skin. "And what would those plans be?"

Azriel's wings flared as your hand found his hair, winding the strands between your fingers. He stopped lathing delicate kisses against your skin to look up at you through dark lashes, eyes light and mischievous. His grin was positively wicked, canines flashing in the light.

"Why don't I show you."

#azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar #acotar series #acotar fanfiction

[crudely-drawn-ben]

Introducing Trilogy

Yesterday I released Trilogy, a new tabletop RPG crafted to support you in having grand adventures in worlds of your own making.

There are several reasons I started writing Trilogy, but the biggest one is that I ran a Dungeon World podcast called Crudely Drawn Swords for seven years and that was a lot of time to think about what we were playing. To a degree Trilogy is the game I wish that we could have had to run the podcast.

Starting from the question "what would a purely PbtA game for epic fantasy look like?" I started thinking more widely - what do I want from a fantasy game? And the truth is that I want a game that supports the structure of characters and their interactions but doesn't tie itself to a specific setting.

Trilogy begins with The Appendices - conventionally in epic fantasy these are at the end and document information about the wider world that might not have made it into the story, but here it is where you sit down as a group and decide what tone you want your game to have, and your world looks like. What kind of place is it? What magic is there? What is religion like? What are the major cultures where the story begins? How would it feel to be in this world? Trilogy doesn't tell you any of these things, it gives you the tools to think through how you want your world to look.

This creates a secondary challenge - without knowing what the world looks like, how could I design character classes for this type of game? Trilogy answers this by going back to the fundamentals - instead of a conventional character class, the playbooks in Trilogy represent a narrative arc. Some of them, like The Fighter, The Priest, or The Magus, look like familiar classes. Others, such as The Volunteer, The Mentor, The Weapon, or The Defeated, are a little different. Character arcs have a set of turning points, story beats that allow you to advance along your arc after you have collected a certain amount of experience. Some are positive and others negative, you choose which ones you want to hit and when, but every character's story has its highs and lows and to get the most from the game you need to lean into both. A character can pass through three arcs as they grow and change, like the three volumes of a trilogy.

The aim of the game is to create a slower but satisfying sense of progression - instead of hit points characters take Stress and Harm like in other Powered by the Apocalypse games that can have both mechanical and narrative effects. That makes combat feel dangerous, but the game also offers more ways to solve problems without getting into combat - I have played games where the player characters never got into a fight, instead resolving confrontations through an ingenious selection of alternative strategies including "lying" and "vomiting magic ink all over the floor." I'm genuinely enthusiastic about this game - I think I would be as excited about it if somebody else had written it. It leans hard into the joy of discovery and the excitement of adventure - you can play it as spooky and whimsical or gritty and hard-edged and anywhere in between.

Because I was writing it I even got to make most of the examples of play roll out as the story of someone's game, something I always appreciate when I read it. It also contains every technique I use as a GM in the hope that even before people get the chance to play it (heaven forbid any TTRPG afficionado have books we haven't got around to playing yet!) people who read it will still be able to use that advice in their other games. So that's Trilogy, the game I've been working on for the last few years. I think it's pretty great and I hope you will too:

Obviously it's a full-priced game and that's a big gamble from an unfamiliar creator - if you want an idea of what it's like in practice we've got the CDS team back together and we're starting a streamed campaign so you have a chance to see it in action. You can find that over on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxpXacko9Nc

The first episode includes me notably failing to use OBS at both the beginning and end, and I can't make any promises things will improve in that regard, but it should be a good opportunity to see how the game shapes up from this start and with this crew I know it's going to be funny and take some wild swings. If you're interested in reviewing Trilogy or you really want to give it a try but you can't afford it, drop me a message

#ttrpgs #indie ttrpg #pbta #epic fantasy #fantasy

[krystalcat]

Keep It To Myself

ღ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x fem!Reader

ღ Genre: Smut, angst

ღ Word count: 5,4k

ღ Warnings: cheating, toxic relantionship, voyeurism, reader is Yunho's lover,fwb with Mingi, unprotected sex (big no), creampie, fingering, oral (giving and receiving), dom!Yunho, sub!reader, yunho is massive, pet names(bunny), repressed feelings, praise kink, dacryphilia, rough sex?, lots of teasing, a sprinkle of degradation?, lmk if I forgot anything

ღ Summary: It's hard to keep your hands to yourself when someone like him crossed paths with you. Too bad he wasn't yours to begin with, but it's not like he cared anyways.

ღ Notes: This is the first time I'm writing smut fanfics. It's also been a long time since I've written anything. I hope you like it and I'm very open to (constructive) criticism! Also, English is not my first language and I haven't proofread this, so it's very possible to have grammatical mistakes or sentences that don't make much sense in English. I also got inspired by Elise's Keep It To Myself, so check that out! I'm also not entirely happy with how this turned out, but I figured it was best to post it before rewriting the plot for the 3rd or 4th time lol

ღ Disclaimer: This is only fiction, by writing this I am not trying to represent the member(s) in any way.

You tried studying in peace, but it was difficult when your roommate and his girlfriend were arguing for what it felt like the fiftieth time that week. After months, you still didn’t get used to it.

Despite not being close friends, you didn't think Yunho was the problem, since there was never gossip in your group of him being a toxic person, and the more passionate fights you heard, it was confirmed.

You saw his girlfriend’s behaviour regarding their relationship and Yunho: restricting who he spoke to, deleting his girl friends’ contacts on his phone, getting angry if he doesn’t answer quickly. You’d sometimes even laugh to yourself, saying she was another roommate - the only difference between her and you being the unpaid rent - so those atitudes weren’t hard to miss.

Hell, sometimes you even wondered how she never made a fuss of him having another woman as his roommate, at least you never heard an argument about that.

What bugged you the most was why the hell he wouldn’t break up with her, because he does recognize she’s not a good girlfriend, his screams coming from the kitchen confirm that. Their arguments have just gotten more frequent and boorish over time.

But now it wasn't only their fights that made you distracted. You would be lying if you said you didn't have a slight crush on Yunho when you first became roommates, always so polite and gentle whenever you both were in your home. But that's just him being nice and a good person, and after he had gotten a girlfriend you knew your feelings had to go away, which wasn't particularly easy since you both shared a house, but you still managed to do it.

The problem now? They came back stronger than ever. You knew that if you spent more than five minutes in the same room as him, you’d leap onto his arms and his girlfriend would literally kill you. Why? For the past two weeks or so right after they fight, they have some sort of angry-make-up sex, making you unable to control your fantasies.

Hearing Yunho’s groans and moans for the past days made you start having a sexual attraction towards him, and pleasuring yourself to them has been your guilty pleasure. You knew it was wrong, no amount of problems with her would make it okay for him to cheat, but God, the things you would do to switch places with her on that bed.

In the middle of the day, you would suddenly imagine the most filthy and nasty scenarios that made you crave those hands on your cunt, those lips on your breasts and his cock pounding deep inside you. You were addicted to something you hadn’t even try before.

You put down the pencil you were holding when you heard moans coming from Yunho’s room - his moans. Quietly making your way to your bed, you took your shorts and panties off, then laying on your bed.

“F-Fuck, Jiyeon” His faint deep groans sent a shiver down your spine. You suppressed your moans as you rubbed circles on your clit, adjusting your pace to the volume of Yunho’s moans, imagining it was you who made him feel that good and all the indecent things you would let him do to you.

Despite everything, you swore to yourself you’d keep this desire to yourself, that you would never flirt or makes moves on Yunho while was on a relationship.

But that is so fucking hard when he didn’t help you to repress your yearnings at all.

«---- ღ ----»

While binge watching your favorite show, you see Yunho walking out from his room, completely dressed up: white buttoned-up shirt adorned with a black tie, black oxfords and pants that matched his dark blue suit. He checked himself out on the mirror in the living room, “I’m going out and probably won’t come back until tomorrow noon”.

“Got it” Your attention returned to the screen in front of you, hearing his shoes clicking on the floor and the front door shutting.

After maybe a episode or two, you heard the front door opening, hearing Yunho knocking his shoes on the entrance. You turned your head around to be met with a pissed Yunho.

“Didn’t realize it was tomorrow already” You snorted as he entered his room, gaining a grunt from him.

He went back to the living room, standing in front of the tv. You’d probably roll your eyes, if he wasn’t with the first four buttons unbuttoned. My God were you really malfunctioning just because of a little cleavage? You had no shame at all, “Yn I’m not in the mood for jokes right now”.

Quickly admiring his figure, you tried your best to not look affected by his looks, “Do you want to vent or need advice? If not, let me watch my show” His fingers massaged his temples, making him sigh.

“It’s nothing much, but would you really listen to me?” He sat next to you, positioning his elbows on his knees and turning his head to you, you paused you show and sat in a more comfortable position, your body facing his. Now this was unexpected, Yunho was always a reserved person who didn’t want to bother other people with his problems.

“She was supposed to meet me almost two hours ago for dinner and she’s not answering my texts or calls. We aren’t in the best terms lately and I’m scared, for us and her as well”

“Do you know were she might have gone?” He shook his head lightly, “Look, I don’t want to be rude, you don’t have to answer me, but why are you even with her?” He gazed into your eyes, opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again and divert his gaze from yours.

“I’ll have some drinks” He got up, “I’m not mad at you for asking that, I just need to clear my thoughts” He grabbed the keys he had previously left on the kitchen table, heading to his way out.

The butterflies in your stomach meant you should leave him alone, that you shouldn’t spend any sort of quality time together with him, it would melt your mind, making you bound to do something stupid. At the same time, you were worried Yunho would get himself in trouble, that he would let’s his emotions get the best of him, and you couldn’t bear something happening to him.

“Absolutely not” You got up from the couch heading towards his direction.

“I just want to be alone”

“Yeah but I’m not letting you go through that door”You crossed your arms as he stared back at you, “We don’t need to talk further, but stay here for a moment to collect your thoughts, I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret tomorrow, ok?”

He looked at you, to his feet, then getting up and going to his room. You sat back down, diverted your gaze and resumed the show, thinking he would disregard your words and go on with his life.

“What are you watching?” You jolted a little when he sat next to you - maybe a little too close for your liking, stomach doing flips and cheeks heating up - now dressed in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

And that’s how you two got closer, dangerously too close, because if being in the same room with him before was hard, now it was arduous. You both would now steal little glances at each other, he would flash you little smiles. When Jiyeon wasn’t there, you’d both tease each other while doing mundane tasks, which was mostly borderline flirting.

Also by some miracle the huge fights stopped, only small arguments here and there. Maybe Yunho did it out of respect for you and the conversation you both had that day, maybe Jiyeon just happened to be in a good temper, who knows. Everything seemed perfect: their relationship was great, no more angry sex, so that attraction towards Yunho disappeared and you had no more guilt looming over your head.

However, after that step forward, you took 100 steps back, because you were now having actual feelings towards Yunho. His smile brightens the room, his touch sends waves down your spine, his presence makes you feel giddy, his teases and flirts make your heart flutter. You had no idea how you got yourself in this situation, perhaps getting closer to him was the last thing you should’ve done to the greater of your sanity.

Your heart spoke louder than your mind, since you couldn’t distance from him once again, not now when you both are friends, and you know what a gentleman and nice person he is, you loved having him around.

What was your next move then? Getting someone else to replace your attraction towards Yunho, which you found quite hard, since you didn’t know many guys, let alone the ones that are both single and decent. Maybe that was a shitty move from you, but it’s still way better than playing around with someone who’s committed.

Lucky you, a few days later Yunho’s friends - who you already knew - came over to play some video games with him, and one of them ditched the hangout to make some moves on you.

“Sooo, are you single?” He asked, leaning on the wall as you made some noodles for dinner.

You laughed at his question, “You know I am Mingi” The tall guy approached you, “Just making sure, I find it hard that a beautiful woman like you is all alone”

“You sure know how to flatter someone” You giggled, turning your head to him with a smirk on your face “What do you want Mingi?” His confident attitude dropped as he widened his eyes, making you laugh lightly “Cat got your tongue? I know you want something, I just want to know what it is”

He cleared his throat, then asking “I-If I asked you if you want to go out with me, would you say yes?” without looking at you. You did not expect him to say something like that, and thought about it for a little: while you wanted to forget Yunho, you couldn’t use one of his friends as a toy, even you had limits.

“L-Look Mingi I think you’re cute, but I’m not ready for something serious and-” He interrupted you, “I thought about something more casual, if you know what I mean.” You let out a ‘oh’ “I-It’s totally okay if you don’t want, but since we’re both single and as I imagine frustrated, I thought why not...?” He clarified, still not making eye contact with you.

“Why not try?” He shot his head up at you, eyes wide and a slight smile on his face, “Really?” You nodded, “Do you want to go out tomorrow or do you think it’s too quick?” He asked. You approached him, gluing your body on his and wrapping your arms around his neck, “Tomorrow seems good”

He snaked his arms around your waist, kissing you slowly as his hands roamed your ass, sometimes tugging at it. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, you hands also made their way to his clothed crotch, making him separate the kiss and grunt silently. “Go back to your friends, I’ll make up for you tomorrow” You whispered, making him roll his eyes as he let go of you to go back to Yunho’s room.

Your little relationship with Mingi - if you could it even call it that - was doing you wonders, for some time your feelings for Yunho faded, specially when Mingi was balls deep into your cunt, all you could do was scream and whimper his name, brain turned into mush. Still, from time to time you would think it was Yunho instead of Mingi fucking you dumb, but you tried your best to repress those desires.

But one day you slip up, you moaned Yunho’s name out loud, and to say you were embarrassed was an understatement.

Mingi halted all movements. “I-I’m so sorry” You muttered under your breath, only loud enough for him to hear, voice cracking as tears filled your eyes. Mingi removed himself from you, “Yn look at me”

You refused to, continuing to stare at the pillow as Mingi caressed your hips, waiting for your response, “Yn I’m not mad, we’re not together, I’m just confused,” He heard your sniffs, making him turn you around and hug you.

“Do you want to stop?” You nodded, making him hold you tighter until he calmed you down enough so that he could bring your and his clothes.

After explaining the whole situation to him, he said he wouldn’t mind to keep your little ‘friends-with-benefits’ thing going on if you still wanted it and assured you he didn’t care about the slip-up. At the end, you knew he understood the mess you were in and took pity in your situation.

«---- ღ ----»

You were awaken from a loud thud coming from the living room, heart racing as your mind thought about the most far-fetched and terrifying scenarios that it could. Slowly getting out of the bed and tiptoeing towards the bedroom door, you heard some mumbles coming from the other room.

You put your ear on the door to hear better. Knock knock knock. You jolted and gasped silently, backing away from the door, “Yn?” A female voice called from the other side, making you realize who it was. Opening the door you saw Jiyeon, smeared lipstick and smokey eyes adorning her delicate face as she reeked from alcohol.

“You scared the living shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled.

“Sorry, um... Yunho and I were at the club with some friends and he is pretty wasted, can I ask a favor?”

“Go on”

“So tomorrow I will be leaving town to meet my family, and I can’t be here looking after Yunho until he falls asleep, could you do that?”

“Jiyeon, I’m sorry but-”

“Please! I know it’s late and that I should have managed my time better, but it’s just this time and I trust you more than his friends to take good care of him”

Now, that was odd. Out of all the people in his life, you were the one she trusted the most? When you literally have feelings for him, have touched yourself while thinking of him and while she was the one on his bed. But Yunho is still your friend after all, surely nothing will go wrong while you care after him and tidy him, right?

“Okay, I'll try and do my best”

“Thank you so much, he's in the couch, probably half-awake” You both went to see him, he was laying on his back, hooded eyes staring through the ceiling, “I'll go now, thank you once again”.

With the door closing, it was just you and a drunk Yunho, who seemed to have a staring contest with the white ceiling.

“Yunho, are you feeling nauseous?”  He kept facing the ceiling as you called his name from afar, “Yunho?" You spoke louder this time, getting closer, the smell of cheap liquor invading your nostrils.

“Uh... Whaaat?” His slurred speech would have almost made you laugh if you weren't worried sick for him.

“Do you wanna puke?” He shook his head. “Okay, let's go to your room, can you get up?” He slowly shifted in his seat and stood up, losing his balance immediately, falling on the couch.

“Great” You massaged your temples, “How am I supposed to carry you to your room?” You sat on his side, putting one of his arms around your neck and holding it as your left arm wrapped around his torso.

With a little difficulty, you stood up. Despite managing to support him, his weight still made you bump on the hallway. Reaching his room felt like minutes.

You sat him on the bed, then unlacing and taking off his shoes as he watched you silently. Then helping him getting rid of the black leather jacket, leaving him in a white tee and black jeans.

“Look, you stink, I need to run you a shower” You explained, “This will be weird, because I need you to take off your pants”

He nodded, complying to your task slowly as you looked away to not make this any more embarrassing.

“You can turn” He said, making you turn around and trying to help him get up from the bed, avoiding looking down at his bare thighs and crotch area, cheeks burning up at the thought of it.

With a blink of an eye, Yunho's left hand was behind your head as his right propped him up, making you freeze on his hold. “Can I kiss you?” After what felt like an eternity, he asked, making you widen your eyes, no answer leaving your mouth.

You wondered if it was the booze or him talking, but his red cheeks, messy hair, somewhat slurred speech and daze gave you the answer.

“You're drunk Yunho, you don't know what you're talking about” You explained after a long staring contest, failing to cover the disappointment in your voice.

“I really want to kiss you” His grip on your neck softened a little, starting to caress it, “You look better with me, not with Mingi” Silence fell in the room, you looked away from him and bit your lip, sighing. Sure it wasn’t a secret you two were together, although it was just fun and games between you two, but it shouldn’t bother him that you’re with someone else.

“Yunho” You started with an hoarse voice, holding the tears threatening to leave your eyes, “You're speaking nonsense, let's go, I'll turn the water on for you”

The grip on your neck strengthened once again and before you knew it your lips crashed.

Different from Yunho, you kept your eyes open and wide, a million thoughts raced through your head, before finally giving into the kiss as Yunho urged you to become closer.

He bit your lower lip, taking the opportunity to insert his tongue in your mouth as you let out a silent whimper, deepening the kiss.

Getting drunk on his tongue, you threw yourself onto Yunho, both falling onto the bed without letting go of each other. Rolling on top of you, he started caressing your cheek with his thumb.

After the probably best moment of your life, you let go of him, finally allowing you both to breathe. As you stared into each other's eyes, Yunho's thumb and index fingers (hooked) into your chin, closing the small distance between you.

You don't know what it was, maybe it was the drunken state leaving your body, the guilt of taking advantage of Yunho or Jiyeon's words resurfacing your mind. But it probably was a mix of the three. You stopped Yunho, taking his hands off of you, making him frown.

“This is a mistake, you’ll regret it tomorrow, probably you won’t even remember this once you’re sober” You stood up “I’m turning on the water” You said as you walked towards the bathroom to do it, hiding the tears that threatened to leave your eyes, but for the sake of appearances and the possibility of him remembering these events tomorrow, you hid it.

You didn’t speak to each other as you gave him a bath, he sat on the shower as you shampooed his hair and rinsed it. You gave up on scrubbing his body in the middle of it due to your heartbroken state. After drying him quickly, you gave his some boxers and pajamas, waiting for him to go to bed to make sure he wouldn’t hit is head or fall down.

After putting him to bed, you crawled back to yours, crying yourself to sleep while thinking about what happened and how you fucked your friendship up, wishing all of this was just a dream.

The next few days were awkward, Yunho kept talking with you as if nothing had happened, probably because he didn’t remember, but you still couldn’t forget his kiss and his (slurred) words that night. He sometimes would ask if everything was alright, but you lied saying the last days have been tiring and you just needed to rest well.

«---- ღ ----»

You grabbed your keys, trying your best to make the least amount of silence possible since it was almost 1am. You had gone out with Mingi to a club, but before that, stopping at his house for some action.

The door opened, revealing your pitch dark apartment, just like you thought, Yunho was already asleep. You then shut it behind you and took off your heels to tiptoe towards your room. As you walked towards it, you saw the door from Yunho’s room wasn’t completely closed, a dim yellow light illuminating the hallway.

Since you didn’t hear a sound, you thought he had forgotten to turn off the light on his bedside, still trying to silently get into your room, slowly turning the door knob to open it.

“Yn...” Hearing your name coming in a low grunt from the other room made you shot your head up. You were pretty sure it was a moan coming from Yunho’s room, your cheeks flustered at the thought of him jerking off thinking of you.

Interest and curiosity took the best of you, making you silently spy Yunho through the door crack. He sat on the bed, no pants on, boxers still hanging on his feet as he slowly jerked himself off. Your mouth opened wide at the sight of his cock’s size. It was probably the biggest you have ever seen in real life.

After admiring his show for a few more moments, you realized you should leave before he catches you looking and make everything between you two even more awkward. As you made the way to your room, the wooden floor creaked, making you internally cursing yourself, hoping he didn’t notice it.

“Yn?” Yunho asked, opening his room’s door wide. Lucky for you, you were already at the front of your bedroom door.

“S-Sorry did I wake you up?” You gave him a slight smile, trying to be as convincing as possible.

“For someone who insists that kissing me was a mistake you sure were enjoying the view” Your face dropped, making you look like a deer in the headlights. Silence filled the whole apartment as Yunho waited for an answer.

“I-I’m sorry” Was all you said before looking away from him and heading to your room, but Yunho’s wasn’t accepting that so easily. He grabbed your arm and trapped you between the wall and himself.

“I can see it in your eyes, why are you lying to yourself?”

“Because you’re with someone else, that’s why. Just because she’s a poor excuse of a girlfriend that doesn’t make it right for you to cheat on her ”

“I don’t care about her”

“Liar!” Tears slowly streamed down your face “If you didn’t care you would’ve ended things a long time ago!”

“It’s complicated, and you know that! If you liked me so much you wouldn’t have started a relationship with Mingi either!” You took his hands off of you.

“We’re not together!” You tried to get away from him, only for Yunho to grab you once again and planting a kiss on your lips, making you relax on him.

He deepened the kiss, making you snake your arms behind his neck, tongue and teeth crashing together as lust and passion dominated you both. Still not letting go of each other, Yunho guided you to your room, closing the door behind him.

He let go of you, leaning a bit back to check you out “Fuck I can’t believe Mingi had all this to himself, you’re so fucking pretty” He attacked your neck with light kisses and bites, making you a whimpering mess as you got wetter.

“I love hearing your little whimpers, you’re so cute, Bunny” A shiver went down you spine “Do you like the nickname, Bunny?” He whispered in your ear, taunting you “These clothes look good on you, but I bet you look better without them” He sat in your bed as you stood in front of him.

You slowly took your clothes, Yunho’s eyes not leaving your body as he licked his lips. Only in your undergarments, you straddled his lap, his hands touching and grabbing every inch of your body. With a loud huff, he took off his t-shirt to reveal his chest and abs.

He pulled you to another kiss, this time a more passionate one, caressing your face as he unclasped your bra in one go, letting the straps fall on your arms. You pulled away from him to take it off, him grabbing and kissing them as light whimpers left your mouth.

He grabbed your hand, positioning it on his tent, “Fuck baby, I need to feel you right now”, you got on your knees, pulling his pants down to his feet, revealing his boxers already with a wet spot on his clothed tip. Touching him through his boxers made him throw his head back with a loud whimper, “Please for the love of God don’t tease me y/n”

You smirked, pulling his boxers down, revealing a leaking and angry tip. As you had already suspected, Yunho was big, you had no idea how it would fit you, but that was something to worry about later.

You started by stroking him and giving him kitty licks, his noises soon encouraged you to try and take him. “Oh fuck...” Yunho moaned and dropped himself on the bed as you sucked his tip, trying to suck more every time your head bobbed up and down.

Tears filled the corners of your eyes as his length hit the back of your throat, loving the stinging sensation it left behind. You felt a hand grabbing your hair lightly, making you look up, locking eyes with Yunho, his filled with lust, “You’re taking me so well bunny” his compliments only made you wetter and more eager to swallow more of his cock.

“Let me help you out b-bunny” He grabbed your hair in a ponytail to then force your throat down his shaft, tears streaming down your face as he wrecked your mouth. You moved your panties aside, making circles around your clit as he kept controlling your head movements.

He let out a deep chuckle, “Is my bunny horny just by sucking me off?” You let out a moan at his words, throat vibrating around his cock, making him moan as well. His movements faltered as his groans got louder and louder, soon him releasing in your mouth and his grip on your head.

You quickly moved back, coughing from the lack of air in your lungs, your throat stinging a but from the workout. Yunho grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. He kissed your tears away, loving how wrecked you looked when he had done barely anything to you.

“Are you okay?” You nodded at his answer “I’m sorry for being so harsh, if I ever do anything you don’t like please warn me” You laughed slightly at his concerns, “Use me however you want” You whispered to his ear, noticing how his lips curved in a menacing grin.

“Is that so? Lay on the bed for me then, love” Hearing Yunho calling you love made you dizzy, by this time you had forgotten he had another woman he could call ‘love’, not a single once of guilt tainting your heart and making you doubt this moment.

You laid on the bed, it was Yunho’s turn to get on his knees. He pulled you closer towards him, giving you kisses along your thighs as you begged him to stop teasing you. He dragged your panties along your legs, throwing it somewhere on the room.

“Holy fuck...” You moaned out loud when he licked your folds, burying his head on your cunt, eating you out like there’s no tomorrow. You tried your best to contain your moans, which only riled Yunho up even more.

“Y-Yunho- Fuck, calm down” You whined, feeling overstimulated from his mouth alone, without even coming once, feeling him smirk as the kept tongue-fucking you. He backed away from your dripping cunt, arousal dripping down his chin.

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to tease you”

“Fuck yes I did, but if you keep going on I’m not lasting long”

“Great that’s my intention” He pushed one finger with ease inside you, making you whimper slightly “More” He chuckled at your reaction, complying to your wishes and adding another one. He thrust his fingers in and out of you, eliciting moans from you. You loved how deep his fingers went inside your cunt, still, it wasn’t enough for you.

“Y-Yunho” You moaned out loud, incapable of forming a full sentence.

“Hmm?” He looked up to you, watching your fucked out face contort with please, “Does my bunny want more?” You nodded your head quickly, making him chuckle, “You’re such a whore for me” and how right he was, you would let him do anything to you in this moment,

He added one more, stretching your cunt out as he lowered his head to your cunt. You combination of his fingers inside you and his tongue flickering your bud turned you into a moaning mess. You quickly felt your high approaching, and Yunho knew that by the way your pussy tightened around his fingers.

“Cum for me bunny, I know you want to” His words were enough to drive you to your edge, making you cream around his fingers as he kept lapping your clit, riding out your orgasm.

He took of his fingers and put them in front of you, making you clean them up and taste yourself.

“Do you want me to grab a condom?”

“Forget that, just go raw” He widened his eyes, “A-Are you sure?” you nodded your head. He got up on the bed, positioning himself between your thighs and his length in your entrance.

“I’m going slow, tell me when it’s okay to move” He slowly inserted his head in you, making moan and wrap your legs around his waist. As he kept pushing himself inside you, your moans grew louder until he bottomed out.

“F-Fuck, you’re huge” You groaned, he stilled inside you as he caressed your face and thighs to relax you. “You can move” He started slowly, you bit your lips to suppress the moans from leaving your mouth, clawing at the sheets.

Yunho tested the waters by speeding up the pace, drawing more moans from you, which gave him the green light to fuck you dumb. He placed your legs on his shoulders and lowered down to meet your lips, giving a short peck.

“Fuck Yn, you’re driving me crazy” He moaned out loud, making you smile, to which he asked “Why are you smiling?” His pace never faltering, his tip brushing your g-spot every time.

“T-The name you’re moaning is mine” You managed to speak between moans, “My bunny is so dirty” He laughed, his thrusts getting sloppier and his moans getting louder.

“Come inside me, please” You locked gazes, he gave you a taunting smirk as he used one of his hands to draw circles around your clit. You felt like your mind was breaking apart from the amount of pleasure, soon feeling a knot on your stomach.

“Do you like being full of me? Fuck, baby I’m so close” He announced, before bursting inside you, your walls sucking him dry. You loved the feeling of being full to the brim by him. Still inside you, he kept drawing circles on your bud and sucking on your breasts. Soon, you came as well, moaning his name out loud.

He removed himself from you, feeling his cum drip down onto the sheets, making a mess, “I’m grabbing a towel, don’t move” He grabbed it quickly, you barely noticing his absence.

He cleaned you up, giving you kisses. Still, a question lingered on your mind.

“What about us Yunho?”

“I’m ending things with Jiyeon, I love you yn”

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[1d1195]

Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

*

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

*

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

*

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz

@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59

@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06

@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong

@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03

@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr

@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri

@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19

Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu

@cohnfusedarling

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #hs #hs fic #hs writing #one direction #one direction writing #dolcezza

[pennylanefics]

The Letter - Laurie Laurence

a/n: this was requested by @riordanness thank you so much!!! i instantly loved this idea the second i read it. i also tried a slightly different format, writing in third person rather than second because i've felt as though i've been struggling with that lately, but i hope you enjoy!

summary: refer to this ask

word count: 7.5k (this is a long one...kind of got carried away)

warnings - mainly fluff, slight angst, probably out of time period here and there, reader uses she/her pronouns

Falling for your best friend is never an easy thing to go through. Especially when the said best friend is Theodore Laurence.

Laurie and (Y/N) have been friends ever since they were young, being neighbors with each other allowed them to play together every single day during the summer that they were available to, and even during the school year, they’d switch whose house they played at every few days.

They grew up together, experienced big life changes alongside one another, gained knowledge and different skills, and of course, grew into their own personalities. They did everything they could together any chance they could get.

So of course it was inevitable that either one or both would fall in love. And that’s what happened.

On the days where (Y/N) and Laurie would go ice skating on the lake behind her house, her hand tightly in his as he guides her along the outside of the frozen water, their skates clinking as they slice the bit of powder on top of the ice, all she could think of was their hands entwined, how soft his skin is.

On the nights after a full day of ice skating and playing around in the snow, they would go into (Y/N)’s house, where her mother was waiting with two cups of hot cocoa and a couple blankets, they’d curl up and sit in front of the fireplace, giggling, talking about all the fun that they had and making plans for the following day.

On the nights where she was scared to sleep alone, she’d signal across the way to where she knew his room was, he would sneak out of his grandfather’s house and over to hers, and sit on the floor beside her bed and talk to her, or even crawl into her bed with her and just cradle her, holding her as close as he could.

During the moments of doubt where Laurie would wonder if he’d ever be good enough to be what his grandfather expects from him and wants him to be, (Y/N) was there to comfort him and give him any sort of advice she could, holding him as he cried and wiping his tears away with her thumbs, telling jokes to cheer him up.

During the sleepless nights that (Y/N) dealt with, her writing keeping her up, along with the fleeting moments of self-criticism, Laurie was right there by her side, refilling her glass of water and making sure she was taking enough drinks, reassuring her, and even reading what she has written for her.

Both of them unknowingly began to slowly fall in love, those simple moments beginning to mean so much to each of them, special and close to their hearts. However, the yearning was starting to get too much for (Y/N). 

Every time she saw Laurie, all she wanted to do was jump into his arms and kiss him sweetly, blabbering out how much she loves him in a deeper sense than just in a best friend way. It was painful, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Until she came to the conclusion on what to do.

It was a beautiful spring day, the flowers were beginning to bloom bright and beautiful colors, the green leaves were glowing bright after a couple rainy days. (Y/N) and her mother were sitting in the kitchen, enjoying lunch, when Laurie knocks on their door. Her mom answers before coming back with a smile on her face.

“Hey,” Laurie greets (Y/N), a simple white puffy shirt adorning his body, the sleeves buttoned up all the way to his wrists, an unusual sight. “Would you want to join me for a walk today?”

(Y/N)’s expression faltered and she sets her sandwich down. She quickly tries to wrack her brain for some semblance of an excuse.

“Um, I wanted to stay in and get a chapter of my story done,” she says, averting her eyes to her plate, a tell-tale sign she was lying. She had finished that chapter last night, but she couldn’t let him know that.

His expression falters slightly upon hearing her rejection, and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“Oh, okay…um…” He isn’t entirely sure what else to say. She never turns down a walk with him, something was up. “Is everything alright?”

(Y/N) looks up and sighs, hating the hurt and broken look on his face, but she couldn’t do this anymore.

“Yeah, everything is okay. I’m stressed over this one scene and need to lock myself away for now.”

Every time from then on, when Laurie asks her to go on a walk, invites her over for dinner, asks her to come over, anything, it’s met with an excuse.

“I’m feeling rather tired today, I spent all night writing.”

“I’m meeting a friend in town today, I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“I have to deliver something to a family friend.”

Laurie started to catch on to all these excuses, and as time went on, it had been over a month since the two of them had even spent time with one another. It came to a point where Laurie sat in his room, watching her house like a hawk most days, but one day, noticed her blinds were closed. For some reason, this stung his heart more than he expected it to.

Until one day, things change.

Up in her room, (Y/N) hears her mother and father call for her to come downstairs. Groaning, she throws her book down and trudges down the wooden stairs, creaking underneath her socked feet. That’s when she sees Laurie, and she pauses.

Laurie’s heart aches in his chest at the sight, but he puts on a smile on his face.

“Laurie was just telling us some big news and we thought you might want to hear as well,” her mother beams, reaching out for her to join them in the living room. 

(Y/N) slowly walks over to them, taking a deep breath, and offers Laurie a soft grin. He nods a greeting to her and clasps his hands together.

“I wanted to inform you all that I will be heading off to Europe at the end of the week,” he states very strongly, like there was nothing that was going to change his mind. “My grandfather thinks it may serve me well. I will be in France for most of the time, but I will be traveling around, exploring, seeing the world.”

“I think that sounds like it would be a wonderful time, Laurie,” her mother tells him, excitedly hugging him. He hugs her back and his smile widens a little, moving on to shake (Y/N)’s father’s hand.

However, (Y/N) remained in her spot, unable to move, paralyzed with this new information that the man she loves is going away. But then her mind begins to race. Was this her fault? Even though Laurie was grinning at her, she could tell there was a deeper, more painful look he was hiding deep down. 

“Do I get a hug goodbye?” He jokes, reaching out for her, trying to break the obvious tension between them. (Y/N) finally sighs and steps forward right into his arms, tightly wrapping hers around his torso. His hands embrace her back, his large, warm hands bringing her back to the nights where he’d hold her as she fell asleep, making sure she didn’t fall off the bed or couch.

Tears prickle (Y/N)’s eyes the longer their hug lingers, so much that she has to pull away to keep herself from choking up and completely sobbing in his arms.

“I hope you have the best time,” she whispers, stifling a cry that was close to being released. She avoids eye contact with him as she steps back to where she was standing before. The tension between the two of them returns as Laurie stares at her, but she doesn’t even glance at him.

Laurie nods his head and bids a goodbye to the three of them once more before walking out of the house and back to his grandfather’s.

“What was that about? You two used to be so close,” (Y/N)’s father chimes in as soon as the front door clicks shut. Both her parents stare at her, waiting for an answer, but she’s unable to say anything. Instead. she takes off running upstairs and back to her room, where she finally breaks down crying into her pillow.

It was finally happening. Laurie was going away for who knows how long, he was most likely going to meet a beautiful French woman and marry her as soon as he could. (Y/N) starts internally beating herself up over it.

I should’ve told him.

I should have made a move.

I shouldn’t have let him walk away from me so easily.

I should have ran after him as soon as he walked out of the door, begging for him to stay.

The remainder of the night, (Y/N) stayed in her room, spending her time staring at the wall and reading small excerpts from the book she was currently reading. Staring out her window after having finally opened the curtain, she notices Laurie’s bedroom was still filled with light, once it was dark enough out to really stand out.

Getting some ounce of courage, she stands up from her bed and grabs a blank sheet of paper and her quill, walking back over to her desk and taking a seat. She dips the quill into the ink and gets to writing, her tongue poking out with concentration, stealing glances at Laurie’s window here and there, getting out all of her thoughts that she was dying to say to him.

After a while of thinking and writing, scratching things out and even starting completely over a few times, she looks over the final version of the letter and smiles to herself. Exhaustion takes over her so she sets the letter out to dry, sets her quill back in it’s little container, and heads back over to her bed to crawl under the covers.

The following days, (Y/N) avoids pretty much everyone, either staying in her room or another part of the house whenever her parents were out. She didn’t want to see anyone but Laurie, in hopes that maybe, if he comes over to see her one last time, she can take her chance.

But no.

Laurie left quietly in the morning, far before anyone else was awake, so early that the only time she realized he was gone was later that night, after the sun had set and the night was calm, did she notice the absence of candlelight coming from his room.

As the months go by, (Y/N) realizes the grave mistake she made in withdrawing herself from Laurie. Life was miserable without him, she pined for their late night talks surrounded by her chaptered work and other stories, she wished he could hold her to sleep one more time, but that was all gone.

He was somewhere off in Europe, and she was stuck in Concord. This is her new life, having to live with the fact that she yearned and longed for his love, but she missed her chance and screwed up entirely.

Every night before she went to bed, she’d scan over the letter just to make sure she didn’t leave anything she wanted to say out, and every night, she would end up changing something. Whether that was a single word, or adding something. It got so much that she had to start with yet another piece of paper at some point.

And every time, she wrote Laurie’s name on the front with such care and love, and would smile when it was finished and dried. She would repeat the same process, folding it carefully, and sealing it with his favorite color wax and her personal stamp, as well as some dried flowers.

This time it was going to stay sealed, she promised herself that and was planning on keeping it.

“How are things for you, Miss (Y/N)?” Mr. Laurence asks her after stepping out of his house.

Since it was a beautiful spring day, she was reading underneath the tree right on the edge of her family’s property, and the older gentleman was leaving to take his daily walk.

“Things are going okay, Mr. Laurence. I got a job at the local library stocking books and that has taken up a lot of my time.” He smiles at her and comes to a stop in front of her.

“And you’re still working on that story of yours? Ready to publish it?” (Y/N) chuckles softly and looks down at her hands, her heart racing in her chest.

“Not exactly. I have put that on hold for the time being,” her shoulders fall a little, and Mr. Laurence sighs a little.

“In due time, you’ll pick it back up,” he smiles down at her before he walks off in the direction he usually walks, leaving (Y/N) alone once more. She tries to go back to reading, but it’s no use. Her mind is filled with thoughts now, remembering why she stopped writing and how she couldn’t exactly tell Mr. Laurence, because it had to do with his grandson. 

She decides to head back to the house for some lunch, she enjoys a sandwich made by her mother on the back porch, taking a seat on the porch swing and looking out at the beautiful lake, surrounded by weeping willows blooming beautifully in the spring weather, as well as wildflowers that her and Laurie plant with her mom every year.

This year, it was just the two of them, and (Y/N) didn’t like it at all. Laurie brought a different sense of fun to it, he was constantly cracking jokes or telling stories, now the only noise was her mother humming some tune or telling her about a family member.

Life was different, and all (Y/N) wanted was Laurie back.

To her surprise, that day came two years later. 

By now, (Y/N) was in her early twenties and preparing for life as a writer, attempting to establish her name, albeit not easily, the owner of the bookshop she works at was more than happy to lend her stories out, even if they aren’t binded properly or fully complete. She loved getting to connect with people who read her work and had opinions or even constructive criticisms.

Life was finally looking up for her, until everything turned upside down once more.

Fall had come around this time of the year, the leaves changing colors to beautiful oranges, reds, and yellows, the crisp, cool air settling over the northeast and bringing a sense of change. Perfect for the change that was coming.

It was very early in the morning, the sun just barely peaking over the horizon, casting the world in a stunning, orange glow, a sunset like any other. (Y/N) was still fast asleep in her bed, her face smushed against the rather thin pillow, her hair sprawled out all over.

Since she was asleep, she didn’t hear a knock on the door, or her mother answer it and let Laurie in, nor did she even hear his attempt at trying to be quiet walking up the stairs and right to her room. Nor did she realize that Laurie walks in, expecting her to be up and about, holed up as he imagined she would be.

Upon seeing that she was still asleep, he feels awkward for intruding. Admiring her for a moment, he can’t help the smile that stretches across his lips. As he goes to leave, he sees a piece of paper with his name neatly printed on it.

His eyebrows furrow and he takes one step and picks the letter up. His finger runs along the smooth paper that his name is written on before turning it over and tracing the royal purple wax seal, being mindful of the fragile flowers adorning it as well.

He wonders what’s written inside, if he were to crack the wax seal and read it, what would he find? Was it a birthday card? A letter detailing how much she hated him? Something she wanted to tell him, like how she found a lover and was to be married in the coming months?

Whatever was in the letter, he decided against breaking the seal and snooping. Carefully, he backs out of the room and makes his way back downstairs to where (Y/N)’s mother begins making breakfast.

As the food starts to come together and the smell wafts through the house, (Y/N) is awoken by the comforting smell of crackling bacon, scrambled eggs, and fluffy pancakes, her favorite. She bolts out of bed and throws on her morning overcoat, something she brings out for chillier fall and winter mornings like today, and sprints downstairs.

But to her surprise, she finds Laurie sitting there at the kitchen table, while her mother stood at the stove, continuing to cook the bacon and flip the pancakes.

“Laurie?!” She shrieks, her hands flying up to her mouth in shock. Laurie can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face, hearing her voice again and seeing her face, noticing how much she’s grown since the last time he saw her.

Standing up, he opens his arms and within seconds, she leaps into them, wrapping hers around his neck. He tightly holds her close to him, nuzzling his face in her neck and inhaling her scent that he fell asleep to so many nights.

“I missed you,” he whispers into her shoulder, his eyes screwed shut as he tries to keep himself from crying. 

The last few times they saw each other were very tense and not the way he wanted to really end things, so the fact that she was here, in his arms no less, it meant the world to him. And he didn’t want to let go just yet.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers right back, not a second thought to her words. 

Just as she pulled away, her mother just finished cooking the food, and set the last bit of pancakes on the table next to them. 

“Enjoy guys. I will be going around delivering the pies I made last night, so I’ll be back later in the afternoon.” The two bid (Y/N)’s mother goodbye and they take a seat nex to each other at the table, (Y/N) in her usual spot and Laurie at the head of the table, just to her right.

“So, how was Europe?” (Y/N) asks, grabbing a couple pancakes and pouring some syrup over them, also scooping up some eggs and plating them. Laurie does the same for his own plate, grabbing the fork and knife set off to the side.

“It was great, very beautiful. I had a little place in southern France that my grandfather owns, so that’s where I stayed overall. But I traveled all over, to Paris, Italy, Germany, Switzerland.” She raises her eyebrows and grins, taking a bite of her food.

“They must have been gorgeous sites. Did you learn Italian or German?” Laurie smiles to himself and gazes longingly into her eyes.

“Penso che tu sia la ragazza più bella che abbia mai conosciuto,” he gracefully speaks, chuckling softly at her confused expression.

I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met.

“I have no idea what you said, but it sounded so elegant,” she swoons a little, melting at the smile he returns, a blush beginning to cover his cheeks.

“Well, looks like you’ll have to learn Italian to figure it out,” he winks before taking another bite from his stack of pancakes. A comfortable silence hangs in the air for a moment as they enjoy the food in front of them, both feeling content and at peace with their reunion.

“Um, I was wondering if you’d…if you would like to take a walk with me? Like old times?” Laurie asks, a little scared to considering all the past few times she turned him down. But to his surprise, she smiles and eagerly nods her head.

“I would love that, Laurie. I want to show you this little deer family that sits tucked away in that little hideaway we cut out in the twigs and brush along the pathway a mile or so down.”

“Oh yeah! The hideout we made to escape our parents because we didn’t want to be away from each other. I remember the day we made that.”

“Me too. Every time I walk past it, it makes me smile.”

Laurie has the urge to reach out and take her hand, it’s so close to his resting on the table, so much that he can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and it drives him mad. But he stays put, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or ruin things once again.

After they both finish breakfast and a bit more small talk, (Y/N) heads upstairs to change into a daytime dress, something simple but slightly thicker than her summer clothes, a nice cream color of the skirt and a natural brown top; it compliments her skin tone very well, and she has always felt beautiful in this specific piece.

Once she is dressed and her shoes are tied, her eyes drift to the letter she wrote and addressed to Laurie, who is just downstairs at this point in time. Picking it up, she admires her own handwriting and the wax seal, something she’s done for months at this point, and sighs, wondering if she’ll have the guts to give it to him sometime today. Quickly, she shoves it into the pocket of her dress and dashes back out of the room and down the stairs.

“Ready,” she smiles at Laurie, guiding him out of her house and onto the trail that they used to walk. 

It was just like old times, like nothing has changed and like no time has passed. They laughed like they used to, they shared story after story that happened during the time they were gone, Laurie detailing his daytime adventures of riding a carriage through the French countryside, to (Y/N) describing her work at the library and giving him the gossip of well-known people within the city of Concord.

(Y/N) was smiling so much that her cheeks were starting to hurt; but it was a feeling she welcomed, and a feeling that she could never get tired of. Laurie is in the same boat, a light in his eyes that has been dimmed for years at this point, and she could tell.

As the time went by, the wind started to pick up, cooling off the atmosphere from the blinding sun, and (Y/N) just so happened to forget her overcoat, not thinking it was going to be chilly at all. But, since Laurie is so in tune with her, he immediately knows something is wrong.

“Here,” he pauses his steps to remove his coat. Raising his eyebrows, he reaches out towards (Y/N), silently asking if it was okay. When she goes to reach for the coat, he ends up throwing it over her shoulders carefully, making sure it was secured enough to not fall off.

He offers her a soft smile, one filled with love and adoration, specifically for her. He can’t help but think how adorable she looks in his jacket.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, looking down at the ground in front of her as they continue walking on, her hands grabbing hold of the coat around her and tightening it slightly.

They continue walking for a little while longer, goofing off together like they used to do on their walks, before they start to head back, just after they reached the little hideout spot she mentioned earlier.

“Would you like to go into town? I don’t want to, uh, to part with you just yet, I feel like we have lost time to catch up on,” he smiles as he says this, wanting nothing more than to just be with her for the remainder of the day.

And fortunately for him, she agrees right away.

“Great, just give me a moment for Gerard to get the carriage ready and then we can take off. You go inside for a moment to get warm.” (Y/N) chuckles and steps inside her house after watching Laurie walk further and further away straight to his home. Once he is out of sight, she disappears inside and plops down on the couch. After resting for a moment, she fishes into her dress pocket and grabs the letter, thinking everything over.

There wasn’t a moment during their walk that she could have given it to him, or brought that sort of conversation up just yet. But maybe in town would be safer? No. She would have to face the ride home with him in a carriage of close quarters, that wasn’t an option.

Her fingertip traces the seal and she sighs, shaking her head.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?” She whispers to herself.

A swift knock on her door startles her and she jumps up, immediately shoving the letter into her coat pocket and stands to head back out with Laurie.

“The carriage is ready,” he grins, holding his hand out for her to take. She gladly places her hand in his and follows him to the front of his house, where the carriage was brought around for easy access.

The city wasn’t as busy as Laurie was expecting, maybe because it was an afternoon of a week-day, or maybe it was the clouds that had rolled in on their way into town that had everyone scurrying to seek shelter in case there was rain or any sort of bad weather.

The first stop was the bakery, Laurie getting a regular croissant and (Y/N) getting a chocolate croissant, her favorite. She then bring Laurie to the library, showing him what her usual job is of re-stocking books, taking the ones recently returned and putting them back on the shelves. It was simple work, but she enjoyed it.

As they continue walking along the street, catching up as they’ve been doing, a little jewelry shop catches (Y/N)’s eye, and they step inside for a little to shield themselves from the chilly breeze that picked up.

Laurie follows her close behind, examining every piece she admires.

“Oh, Laurie, look how gorgeous this is,” she gushes, walking over to a counter with a simple green amethyst necklace, a small emerald cut with a silver chain and silver details holding the stone in place. Her jaw was slacked in awe as her fingers cradle the precious stone.

“That is beautiful,” he replies, noticing the twinkle she has in her eyes as she admires it. But upon seeing the price on it, her shoulders deflate and she sighs.

“If only I could afford it. It’s quite a piece, though.” Laurie nods silently and grins at her. He quickly looks to the man behind the counter and nods his head towards the piece, silently telling him to take it.

Just as (Y/N) turns away, her dreams slightly crushed, she spots a friend walking right past the window of the shop.

“Priscilla?!” She shouts, running straight for the entrance to the shop, slipping out just as Laurie turns back around to talk to the man. Acting fast, Laurie hands the man the correct amount of money stated and takes the box that he packed the necklace in.

Laurie leaves after thanking him, making sure to hide the box in his pocket before finding (Y/N) still talking to her friend. He comes to stand next to her, not saying anything and allowing her to have time catching up with someone else.

“Oh, Priscilla, this is Laurie,” (Y/N) finally introduces him after a small lull in the conversation. “Laurie, this is a friend of mine at the library, Priscilla.”

“Ah, so this is the infamous Laurie that she always talks about.” (Y/N)’s eyes go wide with worry, not wanting her secret to be given away, but thankfully, she continues. “She’s told me many stories about how you grew up together, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well. We do have quite a lot of stories from when we were young,” he chuckles, glancing over at (Y/N) and smiling widely. She laughs along with him, her head tilting back with her laughter, a sight Laurie has always loved.

“Well, I have to get back home, but it was nice seeing you, and nice meeting you, Laurie,” Priscilla waves a goodbye to the both of them before dashing off. (Y/N) watches and as she does, she feels a single drop of water fall onto her nose.

“Do you feel that?” She asks, turning to Laurie, looking up at the sky. He joins her and flinches when a droplet of water hits his eye.

“Looks like we should get back,” he says, reaching for her hand and beginning to drag her away, back in the direction where their carriage was waiting for them to return. Laurie helps her step into the cab of the carriage, their laughter ringing out in the start of the thunderstorm.

The ride back for them was quite relaxing. (Y/N) stared out the small window, the rain hitting her face, Laurie watching her with admiration, knowing that if she turned around in a second and saw the look in his eyes, she’d be very aware of his feelings.

She ends up having dinner with him and his grandpa for the evening, enjoying being back in the house that she spent so many days and nights in, a place she hasn’t been to in so long because it felt wrong to be there without Laurie, especially with how their friendship kind of fizzled out towards the time of him leaving.

But Mr. Laurence welcomed her back with open arms, letting her know she was more than welcome to visit any time. He even invited her back over for dinner tomorrow night, also fitted with an evening of entertainment with her parents and a few others.

When the time came, Laurie walked (Y/N) back home, the rain still falling down from the sky, soaking into the ground to hydrate the dry grass and trees. She used his coat to shield her hair from the rain, Laurie opting to get drenched, as it doesn’t bother him.

They come up to her front porch, chuckling together as they are finally covered from the pouring rain. Standing there for a moment, (Y/N) looks at Laurie and smiles, not really wanting to say goodbye, but she was exhausted.

“It was so lovely to be with you again, Laurie,” she murmurs, worried about how he feels. But when a huge smile stretches across his face, she feels relief course through her body.

“I very much enjoyed it as well. I think coming back was the best decision I have made so far.” A smile slowly tugs at (Y/N)’s lips and she feels her cheeks heat up with a blush. Sure, it wasn’t her that he solely came back for, but she could dream, right?

“Oh! I forgot I’ve been wearing your coat all day,” she realizes just as she was getting ready to head inside her warm home. She removes it from her shoulders and hands it to him, a thankful grin on his face.

“It’s no worries. I think it suits you quite well,” he winks. Again, she gets all flustered and looks down at her soaked shoes.

“Well, um, I better get inside before I get sick, but I will see you again tomorrow night, for dinner.”

“Of course, get some rest and yes, I will be anxiously awaiting for dinnertime to come.”

With that, Laurie turns and trots down the steps before taking off in a sprint back to his home, his own jacket over his head now that he had it back. (Y/N) steps inside and sighs deeply, heading straight up to her room and untying her muddy shoes.

Once she gets dressed in her nightgown and gets all snuggled up under the covers on her bed, she grabs the book she has been reading recently from her nightstand, but something clicks in her head. 

She doesn’t see the piece of paper that has been there for years. Her letter to Laurie.

Panic sets in and she starts to freak, checking her dress that was in a pile in the corner of the room to be washed at the end of the week, but nothing was in her pockets. She wracks her brain, trying to remember the last place she put it, until it clicks again.

Laurie’s coat pocket.

Her actions freeze as she thinks over the day, trying to recall when she put the letter there. Things finally fall into place and she falls to the ground, her knees hitting the wood with a loud THUD. Tears immediately spring to her eyes and she starts to shake, knowing that there was a possibility of him finding it now.

And unfortunately for her, this wasn’t to be dealt with tomorrow, as Laurie knocks on the front door  softly but just loud enough for her to hear. Slowly, she walks down the stairs, trying to be quiet as to not disturb her parents.

Opening the door, she finds Laurie standing there, his hair drenched with rain, as well as his white shirt and black vest. She didn’t have to say anything, since Laurie was holding the letter up, the purple wax seal broken, a clear sign that he read through it. His breaths were heavy, filled with emotion.

The silence is thick between them, both too scared to start the conversation.

“Is it true?” Laurie asks, staring at her, waiting for her to explain. However, she says nothing and steps to the side to let him in, wanting him out of the chilly, rainy night. But that wasn’t what he wanted, as he heads right to the back porch, gazing back at her, silently asking for her to follow him out to the covered porch.

The two step back outside, and instantly realizing that she wasn’t dressed for it, he puts his coat back over her shoulders, bringing her over to sit on the porch swing together. Laurie opens the letter back up and reads over it again, although that’s all he did when he found it, was read it five times over just to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.

A smile appears on his face and he folds the letter and brings it up to his face, chuckling to himself as he notices that she sprayed it with his favorite fragrance of hers. 

“I’ve always thought of our friendship as different. Not in a bad way, but…a good different. I have always thought you were so very special, as in a beautiful person but also special to me, personally. And then five years ago, when we were seventeen, we were at an event together, with a few friends and family, around Christmastime. You ended up falling asleep on my shoulder, and that’s when I realized I’m in love with you.”

(Y/N) stares out at the backyard, getting lost in the rainfall, but listening to Laurie fully, taking in his words and everything.

“It felt so wonderful to have you beside me like that, even though we’ve been in that position before, and even closer, that moment felt different for some reason. I realized that you are all I wanted in my life. I didn’t want anyone else falling asleep on my shoulder, no one else in that room mattered by you. I wanted to fall asleep with you by my side every night.”

This admission makes (Y/N)’s heart race in her chest, and she finally looks over at Laurie, who also stares foreward, seemingly focused on choosing his words. She notices, even in the dark of the night, the slightly pink tint to his cheeks, though she wasn’t sure if that was from the cool temperature or the reveal of his feelings. 

“But then things fell apart. You started acting strange and I figured I was reading signals wrong, that I was misjudging what our relationship was. That you were rejecting me in some way, even though I never voiced my feelings for you. That’s why I moved to Europe. To start new, to forget you, but I found that to be impossible. You were all I was able to think about. Everything I saw, I thought of you. Going to an art museum, I wanted to discuss a painting with you to hear your thoughts. Finding a little bakery and wanting to give you a bite of my pastry. Taking a trip through the French countryside and wanting nothing more than to run through the fields with you, your hand in mine, laughing, with no care in the world.”

Tears were filling (Y/N)’s eyes as he speaks, he was still staring forward and refusing to look at her until he’s said everything he needed to.

“Reading this letter just…brought so many emotions and confused feelings back.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as (Y/N) tries to collect her thoughts before speaking, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

“I love you, Laurie. I do. Everything in that letter is the truth. I didn’t mean to distant myself, but I was scared. I know that is not a good excuse, but I realized I was in love with you too. I took it far differently than I should have because I’ve never felt this way for someone. And I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” She pauses to take a deep breath, turning her head back to look at the backyard, some parts of it beginning to flood a little due to the amount of rain that had fallen all afternoon.

“But in you pulling away, it made it worse. It ruined it anyway.”

“I know. Believe me, I am well aware of that at this point.” She looks down at her hands, disappointed in herself, and hurt. She was scared of this conversation going south, and things were going to end terribly. “But I would have rather kept you around and yearned for you in private than confess my feelings and lose you. And I got far too in my own thoughts and fear and thinking you wouldn’t feel the same. So I distanced myself. And I know I should not have, and I’m so sorry.”

Laurie takes her words in, nodding along as she apologizes. Opening the letter back up, he reads over it and lets the silence hang in the air for a few moments. His fingers run over the dried ink on the paper, remembering the feeling he got when he read it for the first time, only a little while ago.

FLASHBACK

Laurie enters his room and slips his coat off, hanging it up on the rack right next to his door. He reaches on the inside to grab the box with the necklace out, but also makes sure to check his other pockets just in case he left anything in there. To his surprise, he feels a piece of paper in one, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

When he realizes what it is as soon as he pulls it from his coat, he freezes, not sure what to do with it. But then he gets the idea that maybe (Y/N) put it in there for him to find. So, does that mean she wants him to read it? It must…right?

Going against his better judgement, he breaks the wax seal and opens it slowly, pausing to close his eyes and take a deep breath. His eyes scan over the writing, some words still scribbled through as she changed it last minute.

Dear Laurie,

You have just told me you are leaving for Europe at the end of the week. I hate feeling as though I have caused this, why would you go when you’ve always been by my side for years? So, I am writing this note as a way of getting out all of the feelings that I have, with no repercussions of any. Laurie, you are the most wonderful man I have ever come to know, you love with your entire heart and everyone you meet is like a friend to you. I have fallen so deeply in love with you, so much that it hurts. I yearn and I long to be yours, but fear that would ruin what we have right now, or had once. So I have stayed silent. And in my silence, I have distanced myself, to shield myself from the pain. But I have to say, this is far more painful, knowing you are leaving and will find a woman to love, a love that I dream of. A love with you. A life with you. It has always been what I’ve wanted. Not this. Not distance of thousands of miles and so many hours away. I will miss you, and everything that we shared. But I will never stop loving you. No matter what.

Love, 

(Y/N)

PRESENT

Laurie gently traces the last few sentences of the letter, a small grin back on his face as everything finally settles in. He looks over at her, folding the letter back up and shoving it inside his coat.

“I have something for you as well,” he murmurs, his hand remaining in the pocket and producing the small, black velvet box, a slight shake to his grip as the nerves set in. She stares at him, wondering what he has, and when he finally clicks open the box and hands it to her.

She gasps in shock, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, in surprise.

“Laurie…” she whispers.

“I noticed how much you were eyeing it, and knew I had to get it for you. Can I…?” His voice trails off as he motions to her neck. He carefully removes the necklace from the box and turns her slightly so that he can set the necklace around her neck, clipping it to secure it.

She looks down at it and smiles widely, the gem perfectly resting above her racing heart.

“This is too much, it was so expensive,” she tries to reprimand him.

“It is no issue, I wanted you to have it, you deserve to have pretty things.” Her cheeks heat up at his words and she sighs, looking down at her hands.

“Listen, I really am sorry for the way things went.”

Laurie, being cautious of his actions, tilts her chin up just slightly so that she can look into his eyes.

“How about we put it behind us and start a little bit before where we left off,” he offers. “Forget everything that happened months before I left. Like old times, but…no more hiding our feelings.” She softly smiles at his offer and takes a hold of his hands, squeezing them gently.

“I like the sound of that. Can I ask of one thing as well?”

“Of course, of course.”

“Kiss me.” 

Laurie takes no time to think about her request and presses his lips to hers, his hand cupping her cheek and holding her close. The two get lost in their own little world, every single feeling they’ve had for each other coming to a boiling point and spilling out, both being unable to control their actions any longer.

Which is why the kiss lasts for minutes, making up for all the lost time that was spent yearning after each other in silence, for the two years that he was gone, everything. Their hands explore each other’s bodies, (Y/N)’s hands going to Laurie’s hair, and his hands running up and down her back and resting on her sides, his thumbs tenderly rubbing her hips.

When the kiss finally ends, he rests his forehead against hers, their breath mixing together in the chilly, rainy night.

“That was everything I’ve dreamed of,” Laurie whispers, moving his lips over to kiss her cheek. “And so much more.”

“I feel the same way. Staring at your lips every time you spoke, wishing I could kiss them all night. Wanting them…all over me.” Laurie blushes and giggles at the suggestive comment from her.

“Well, we now have all the time in the world, mon amour,” he whispers, kissing her once more and cradling her face again. “The rest of our lives, even.”

#laurie laurence #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #laurie laurence imagines #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #little women #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[russellsppttemplates]

Your mummy is my hero (Lance Stroll)

Lance and Y/N continue their journey into parenthood

Note: english is not my first language. Like the last pieces, this piece is written from experiences I know and not from such a scientific point of view, so it is probable that there are some mistakes as I'm not a doctor. Still, I've tried to treat this as respectfully as possible as this is very close to my heart.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions endometriosis, fertility issues and treatments and associated topics (needles, blood), pregnancy, baby feeding

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey, darling", Lance greeted, setting the wooden spoon on the counter and wiping his hands on the towell by the cabinets, "how was your day?", he walked up to you, placing his hands on your waist as pulling you to him close enough so he could kiss you, "it was good, but I'm really tired, like, really really tired", you hummed before blushing at your own admission.

Lately, the smallest efforts, both physical and cognitive, were leaving you with a tiredness you couldn't recognise. Pairing that with the fact that Lance had been extra doting on you since the transfer, which meant cosy nights in his chest always available for you to lay on, there hadn't been a night in the last week where you hadn't been in bed by the time the news finished on the TV.

"And you managed to eat lunch?", he asked, walking back to the stove so he could finish plating up the food he just cooked, "yes, it was fine. I think this whole eating and going to bed routine, as lovely as it is, is not agreeing with my stomach", you shrugged.

Approaching him so it would be your turn to hug him, you positioned yourself so you could get close enough to his neck, kissing the thin skin there and whispering in his ear, "am I crazy if I think this means our little bun is making themselves warm and cosy in my uterus?".

"I think it's okay, because I'm hopeful, too", he whispered back, smiling as he kissed your cheek, "tomorrow we will know for sure", Lance offered, "until then, I have one of your favourite dishes and some cuddles that hopefully won't turn your tummy upside down", he smiled, holding your plate out so you could bring it to the table and you could both eat dinner.

.

"Dr. Marlin will call you shortly", one of the nurses informed as she escorted you out the the room she had taken your blood in, smiling warmly at Lance.

"Everything okay?", your husband asked, "yes, at this point, I don't even mind it", you reassured him, holding his hand in yours, "whatever happens today, we'll get through it, okay?", he whispered. Even though he cried happy tears when you had the transfer, he had gotten back to be the strong person in the process. He was the one caring for you and making sure you were both standing with your feet on the ground, regulating any emotions and allowing you to breakdown every time you needed to, never failing to bring the smile back to your face.

"I have your results back", Dr. Marlin said once you had sat down and had small talk, "congratulations, Y/N! You're pregnant", she announced.

Lance was quick to pull you to his side, hugging you as best as he could and kissing the side of your head as you cried, "I'm sorry, but these good news are also a lot to take in", you chuckled, wiping the tears with your thumbs before looking at Dr. Marlin, sensing she wanted to carry on.

"It's okay to feel like this, it's completely normal", she offered, "while this is still early, so we have to be careful, your levels looks really good", she pointed the screen so you could see your results and the interval they have to be for successful procedures, "everything is looking good, your HCG levels are very good even. You already know the risks and what you should keep an eye out for, but so far, we are headed in the right direction, congratulations!".

After prescribing you prenatal vitamins and booking the next appointment, Dr. Marlin sent you both on your way to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, "I love you", Lance said once you sat in the passengers seat, kissing your lips passionately, "I love you, too, handsome, so much", you smiled, cupping his cheek softly and rubbing the skin with your thumb quickly before he moved so he could close the door.

.

"And then I was like 'wait, I've learnt how to do this in a better way!', so I gathered the things I needed and so far, it's going along well", you said as you walked around the bedroom, grabbing your underwear from the drawer and putting it on, untying your robe's belt as you walked to the head of the bed so you could grab and put your pyjamas on, "and what about you?", you asked your husband, "did they change the shape on the front wing?", you asked, taking off the robe completely.

"Yes, they ran some tests and it looks promising, and I also d- woah", he gasped, adjusting his position onto the bed, "it wasn't there last night", he whispered, rolling on the bed so he could approach you, his head in line with your midsection.

"What wasn't th- oh", you noticed, too. The swell under your boobs was prominent. Not like whenever you had a little bit too much of your mother's cooking or whenever your period left you feeling heavier, but rather like a baby bump.

"It still feels surreal", you whispered, pulling your shorts all the way up so they sat lowly on your hips and sitting on the bed next to Lance, his hand going straight to caress your skin while you pulled the thin material on to rest just under your boobs, "our little one is growing, made themselves cosy and warm inside mummy? You're very clever already", he spoke to the bump as his hands continued their ministrations on your skin, pressing his lips above your belly button and leaving small kisses there, "you still have a long way to grow, but mummy and daddy are here so excited to meet you, love".

.

"She's growing my baby, and I don't mean this to sound so animalistic - maybe it's that instinct though -, but she's growing our baby that we made together and she's the best, she's taking everything like a champion. I know that there are hard days, but she's still doing it 24/7", Lance said.

"Well, it's not something you can tag out or have a break", Chloe retorted despite knowing where her younger brother was getting at.

"I know, but- she's been through a lot, we've been through a lot, and we're finally so close to meeting our daughter", he admitted.

You didn't want to make a big fuss around it, but you insisted on gathering both families for a dinner to celebrate your baby and to spend some time together before your routines changed. You and Lance spoke to a caterer who delivered the food at your place while Chloe, Scotty and your husband set the big table while you played with your nephew, the little boy forever entertained with your games and occasionally kissing your clothed bump like he had seen his uncle do so many times.

When Chloe brought the small box with balloons, her smile was beaming, "open it, open it! I'm very proud of myself for not taking a peak, but please, open it!", your sister in law beamed, clapping her hands as the rest of the family members waited expectantly for you and Lance to rip the tape and lift the lid of the box.

When you did so and it revealed lavender coloured balloons with silver writing announcing "it's a girl!", everyone cheered and clapped, Lance hugging you as one hand travelled to your bump whole the other pulled your closer, "ready to be a girl dad?", you teased, kissing his chin, "I was born ready for this, my love".

Knowing you were carrying his little girl made Lance even more attentive to you, if that was possible, and it brought out an even softer side of him. He tried to be there for all the appointments he could, had organised a list with you so you could both have input in what you'd need to buy for your baby girl, and anytime he saw something he liked and thought "she absolutely needs to have this", he would bring it home along with your favourite dessert in a take out bag.

"I'm back", you announced as you walked back into the living room, "hopefully she'll let me sit for longer than an hour and not use my bladder like a dance floor", you chuckled, seeing Lance open his arms so you could sit next to him as he hugged you sideways.

"Have you thought about names? I remember me and Scotty went back and forth with so many names until we found the one that felt right", Chloe questioned.

"We have a list with a couple of them", you began, "and we're set on one, Addalynn. It's a strong name, we can do Addy for a short nickname", you explained, rubbing your bump as you felt her kick, "and she seems to like it, too! She always wiggles harder whenever we say it!".

.

The rumble in the corridor was practically unheard inside your hospital room as Lance exited the bathroom after washing his hands, looking over to you and seeing your sleeping figure. The labour had, as expected, taken a lot of energy from you, so after the medical team made sure you were in good health and after you fed your babygirl, they urged you to rest for a little bit, reassuring you that they'd be around if anything happened.

"Hey, little love", Lance cooed, noticing his daughter give a little scrunch in her bassinet and prompting him to take her out and hold her against his chest, "what a delicious scrunch you've got there, hm?", he complimented as he grabbed a blanket, sitting down and covering her back with the blanket after making sure she was in a good position, "Mummy is resting now, you gave her a hard time to come out here, did you know that?"

"Mummy and I have dreamed of this day for a really long time, and you've made our dreams come true", he cooed, softly touching Addalynn's soft chubby cheeks, "mummy put her body through a lot so we could be a family, and that's why she's my hero", he noted as she made a small noise, meaningless to the conversation and yet Lance felt like she was reacting to what he said.

"I know, right? She's sleeping now, but you probably fell in love with her the minute you were put on her chest, like we did with you. Mummy is kind, selfless and resilient. Sometimes she's stubborn, too", he chuckled, "but that means she loves extra hard, too, and that we just need to keep an eye out when she's taking too much of a burden so we can share it. You and I are going to be a team for that, okay? Always keeping an eye out for mummy", he smiled, kissing her forehead, "your mummy is my hero, and from now on, you are both my priorities", he promised, the sigh from his daughter's lips as she opened and closed her mouth, "are you hungry? Mummy is asleep, isn't- Oh, she isn't, hm?".

You chuckled, rubbing your eyes as you smiled tiredly, "were you two having a chat? Without me?", you feigned offense as you watched your husband get up so he could place your daughter on your chest, "let's have some food, hm? Such a gorgeous girl, you are, and maybe me and you can also have a chat about daddy. I'm sure you've figured it out already", you added as you lowered your top, "but he's the best daddy ever".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[bluewasthecolor]

A Roller Coaster Kind of Rush

Word Count: 1,897

Warnings: None!

A/N: Based off this request! Also, I had meant to get this out about three weeks ago, but life got in the way (as it tends to do). I'm going to try and write some ficlets soon as well. I can't say this is my favorite thing I've written, but as always, let me know if you like it! Also, let me know if you want a part two!

Now

She says everything I need to hear, and it's like

I couldn't ask for anything better

You hadn’t meant to keep your new relationship a secret. It’s just that you and Alexia only talk at training now and you’d really rather not break the news in front of the whole team. You’re waiting for the right time, or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself. As it turns out, the right time is a random Wednesday in April. You’re walking hand in hand when, out of the corner of your eye, you spot a familiar blonde head on the other side of the street. It’s enough to make you turn your head fully, just in time to make eye contact with the Spaniard. She looks away almost immediately but you know she’s seen you, know she’s clocked the woman holding your hand. Alexia’s eyes, the ones you know so well, the ones that are normally so full of passion, have gone cold and distant. She continues to walk down the street, not looking back or acknowledging you in the slightest. Your girlfriend either hasn’t noticed the woman on the other side of the street or simply decides not to comment on it because she squeezes your hand and points to the café the two of you are passing.

“I’m hungry, babe. Can we stop in here?” You smile and nod, but are unable to give her your full attention. Alexia has lodged herself at the forefront of your mind and refuses to leave.

Alexia thinks she’s moved on until she sees you from afar, hand in hand with someone new.  She’s gone on a few dates, dates that went well, but nothing’s stuck yet. Still, though, it has felt good to ‘get back on the horse’ as Mapi loves to say. It hits her like a freight train when she sees you (with her): she misses you. You’re walking on the other side of the street with some redhead who, in Alexia’s opinion, looks like the opposite of your type. She’s short, maybe 5’2”, and she’s definitely not a football player. She’s laughing at something you’ve said, resting her head on your shoulder, and presses a kiss to your collarbone. It’s so different from how you and Alexia were, so much softer, so much simpler. Just as Alexia is thinking this, as the jealousy is bubbling up inside her, you look across the street and make eye contact. You freeze, pausing for a moment, but then continue on as if you never even saw her. This is what hurts Alexia most. The fact that after everything you’ve been through, after every burning hour you spent together, you could be so cold.

When she sees you at training the next day, Alexia marches straight up to you. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pursed, and you can tell what’s coming next. She has the same expression on her face as when she catches Mapi trying to prank her or when the training schedule gets changed without notice. If there’s one thing Alexia hates, it's surprises.

“You’ve got a new girl then?” The midfielder is standing in front of you now, hands on her hips. 

“Yep. Didn’t know I had to issue a press release though.” “Is it…good? Do you like her?” You sense a bit of jealousy in Alexia’s voice and smirk before answering. 

“It’s amazing. She’s perfect. She just…she gets me. We never fight, she’s always there when I need her. I hope you can find someone like that someday.”

Alexia is caught off guard by your comment but scrambles not to let it show through. She just nods and wanders off, leaving you more confused than ever. You hadn’t spoken that much about anything other than football in months–not since the break up. You’re both able to be civil on the pitch because it’s your job and you’re professionals (that and the fact that her injury has kept her out of training) but when it comes to anything other than work your relationship is nonexistent. It’s a stark contrast from the way your love felt and this is what both of you leave the conversation thinking about. 

Then

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe that this is the hill you’re choosing to die on.” Alexia snapped bitterly, turning on her heel and stalking away from you. She headed straight for the door, slamming it on her way out but you were hot on her heels. 

“You can’t believe me?!” You asked incredulously, following her out into the street. It was pitch black and raining torrentially but neither of you cared or even seemed to notice. “I can’t believe you! We don’t get many days off and all I’m asking for is one fucking day that you aren’t consumed by your injury and that you can just be here with me. Is that too much to ask for?” 

“You know it’s not that simple, Y/N. You know that this injury is all I can think about and you know how much it hurts that I can’t play right now. I’m sorry that my being injured has been an inconvenience for you but there’s not a whole lot I can do about that. This is how it is.” 

“Don’t do that, Ale. Don’t pretend like I don’t understand exactly what you’re going through. I’ve been through this before, you know that. If you would just trust me I could—”

“You could what, Y/N? When you tore your ACL you were just starting out and it wasn’t just before a major international tournament, so I’m sorry if I don’t want to take your advice. I think our situations are just a little bit different.” 

“Wow. Alright. Suit yourself then.” Your voice had gone small and you turned around slowly to walk back inside. Alexia sighed and caught your wrist with her hand. “No, Ale. I don’t want your apology right now.”

Luckily for you, she hadn’t been planning on apologizing. Instead, she pulled you into her and pressed her lips to yours. The tears on both of your cheeks mixed with the rain that was still falling and made the kiss uncomfortably wet, but the passion was undeniable. You clutched at one another, conveying all the emotions you could in the kiss. Eventually, you had to break away. Alexia looked at you, a question in her eyes. She wanted to know if the two of you were okay. She knew the kiss didn’t solve anything, knew it didn’t erase the hurtful words you’d exchanged, but she also knew it meant that not all was lost. You didn’t give her a verbal response, but you slipped your hand into hers and led her inside, giving Alexia all the confirmation she needed.

Little did you know, this was the beginning of the end.

Now

She can't see the smile I'm faking

And my heart's not breaking

'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

Your run-in with Alexia at training makes you question everything. For the next couple of weeks you feel like you’re going through the motions but not really experiencing your life. You go on dates with your new girlfriend, meet her parents and her friends, but none of it feels real. She doesn’t know you like Alexia did, can’t tell that your passiveness is out of character for you. Eventually, though, you begin to pull away. She notices that. She even tries to confront you about it once or twice, is so earnest that you begin to feel bad, but you can’t bring yourself to change your ways. This is when she breaks up with you. The fact that it doesn’t hurt–not even a little bit–tells you everything you need to know. You miss Alexia. You miss her more than you knew was possible, more than you’ve ever missed anyone or anything. 

A few days after the break up, you’re sitting at a café with Ingrid when you make a decision. She’s been rambling on about Mapi and just how special she is, and something about a trip back to Norway, when you realize that you don’t want to go another minute without Alexia being yours. “Do you know–” You start, interrupting Ingrid mid-sentence. She looks at you surprised. For the past month or so your weekly coffee dates have been mostly Ingrid talking, so she welcomes the interruption. “Has Mapi mentioned anything about Alexia lately? About anything she’s said?” “Oh, Y/N.” Ingrid’s eyes are soft, a bit apologetic. “Mapi and I promised one another when you two broke up that we wouldn’t get involved. We love you both dearly and we don’t want to interfere.” “Really, Ingrid? That’s all you’re gonna say?” “I’m sorry. But if you want to know anything you should talk to Alexia, not me.” The Norwegian taps your hand. You nod to yourself, and go back to your reminiscing as Ingrid launches back into her story about her girlfriend.

The Next Day

And I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you

You pause outside Alexia’s door, willing yourself to knock. There are a number of factors that could go wrong here, you know this very well, but you’re willing to take that risk. Even if Alexia doesn’t want you back, even if she’s moved on, you need to know. Before you can muster up the courage, however, the door swings open. Alexia is clearly on her way out and she looks at you in surprise as she steps out the door.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?” “Are you–where are you going?” “I was just about to run some errands. I can wait if you need me to though. Is something wrong?” “No, no, nothing’s wrong but, um, if you could wait that would be good. I need to talk to you.” The Spaniard gestures wordlessly towards her flat and you follow her inside. It hasn’t changed since the last time you were there, since the night of the breakup. You wander to the couch and make yourself comfortable, while Alexia perches herself on the chair across from her. Her arms are folded and she looks at you expectantly.

“You said you needed to talk to me, so go ahead.” 

“Right, right, sorry. So I don’t know if Mapi told you this but I got dumped.” At this, Alexia’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. Apparently Mapi was also taking the whole not getting involved thing seriously. “And here’s the thing, Ale. The breakup didn’t hurt at all. Like, not even a little bit. If anything it was a relief. That’s not how it’s supposed to feel, I know that because when we broke up…when we broke up I fell apart. I can’t do this without you, I don’t know how. You're everything to me. I've never felt anything close to what I felt–what I feel for you. And I know last time we fucked up and I know things need to be different if we try this again, but I need to tell you this now. I’m still in love with you. I want to try again, if you’ll have me.”

Alexia doesn’t say anything for a moment, but when you look up she’s crying.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #requests!!

[theflyindutchwoman]

I've got her! I've got her!! Right there. Here. Come on! Here she is. Help me.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 2.11 - Day of Death

I can't express how much I love this episode. It is such a masterpiece that I know that anything I write will automatically pale in comparison… So I'm just going to gush over some of my favorite moments.

The way Tim's emotions are so palpable during the whole episode, but particularly here… For someone who's usually good at compartmentalising, it says a lot about his feelings that he can barely keep it together. The only time we saw him this feral and this distraught was over Isabel and she was his wife… The cinematography and music just enhance everything he is going through here : the golden lights that remind us that Lucy is running out of time… the haunting piano notes or silence that give an eerie atmosphere… the looming dead tree… All of this serve to heighten Tim's feeling of despair.

His distress when Angela announces that she can't tell from the video if Lucy's still alive, is written all over his face. So is the confusion that quickly changes to hope when he spots her moonstone ring… And how symbolic is it that he finds her ring. Or that Lucy threw it as a breadcrumb - for him specifically. He once told her that the most important thing she needed was her eyes - cop eyes - and she remembered it. She left something for him to find, knowing that he would, as she admitted to him later. Because he also taught her during the manhunt that she's never alone. But it goes beyond trust : what she had was faith in him. And the fact that he rapidly recognises her ring just shows how attuned he already is to her. As far as we know, she only wore it twice in his presence : when they won the roundup competition and when she gave him her "evaluation" of him. And yet, he remembered and knew that it wasn't just some random piece of jewellery. Granted, the odds that someone else lost a ring there were minimal. But as we've seen with his Valentine's day present, he was paying attention to her.

And then there's this mix of desperation and hope when he finds out where she's buried, calling the others frantically, digging her out with his bare hands, not even stopping for a shovel… Or when he opens the barrel, not knowing if she's merely unconscious or not breathing… When he breathes life back to her… Armstrong's look says it all : what's driving Tim is something far more powerful than just guilt. Or duty.

There's also this immense sigh of relief that can be heard once Lucy regains consciousness… The way he's gently putting one hand under her head to make her more comfortable and help her get her bearings, maintaining contact with her to ground her… It's such a contrast to how feral he was before. Or the way he holds her close to him at first when she starts crying, trying to comfort her before hugging her tightly, cradling her, swaying a bit, with his hand in her hair… The way her trembling hand is gripping Tim, holding onto him like a lifeline… How she's hiding in his embrace and he's giving her some sense of privacy when she breaks down… How he's whispering soothing words to her - and I love that we can't really hear what he's telling her, that everybody else are giving them time and space. It adds to this feeling of intimacy, to this idea of privacy he's giving her despite the fact that they're surrounded by their friends and colleagues - and commander. It's just the two of them in that moment. That hug was as much for her than for him. After the ordeal she went through, Lucy desperately needed to feel safe again - or as safe as possible. And Tim himself needed the reassurance that she was alive. To quote another show - he cares, a lot more than he's supposed to. And it was in full display in this episode.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #2.11 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

[kurosstuff]

HIII I was the one who requested the Lute fic and I absolutely loved it!!! I was wondering if I could request again, this time could it be a Carmilla x Reader, where she ( and her daughters ) gets redeemed and when they get to heaven they find reader who is Carmilla’s spouse ( GN! Or Male reader please ) and they realize that reader doesn’t recognize them because those who go to heaven don’t remember those who went to hell, just a lot of angst hehe

( again if you aren’t comfy doing this it’s alr ^^ !! Thank you !! )

I've never written her before I hope I did her good?♡

Also! I do only write GN! or female reader(can't write male readers I'm sorry♡)

Also what's her daughters names? I looked ut up and I'm getting like a mix of answers so their names aren't stated csuse of it

But♡ hope you dont mind how angsty I made it with? A twist♡♡

Carmilla x reader: Heaven *cruel* rule.

Carmilla didn't see herself as a angel. She's a demon for fucks sake yet- the ones more deserving to be redeemed were her daughters. But they only entertained it if she would.

So like any good mother? She joined them. Not wanting her daughters to be left behind. Wanting to ensure their safety. She trusted Charlie enough but her trust doesn't include.. the odd bunch she allowed to be helpers to the sinners on the path to be "winners"

She truly thought the dream was just that. A dream. Nothing more then just a childish wish Charlie had but here she was in heaven. Her girls in the rightful place- smiling she glanced down at her gold ring.

Maybe she'll see you- her love once again? In the only rightful place you should be in.

Heaven

She smiled at the thought.

Carmilla fidgeted something felt.. off today as she walked around heaven. Her daughters are not long behind her, holding her dress in nerves. Humming seemed they also felt the same. "My daughters~ don't worry were safe now, ok?" Her new bright wings fidgeting still uncomfortable at the new feeling looking up she froze - seeing the angel - her love - the spouse she had in the living world before she was stripped away from them in death. A bright smile came onto her face seeing you- healthy- happy.

-

Turns out Heaven? Does have rules

Alot

Humming going through a book of rules Carmilla was so close to just giving *up* trying to find another angel was JUST as difficult with all the rules added to it. How there's a wait list but.

No one under Carmine other then her and her daughters were anywhere was there stated of another person. Frowning closing the book. Sighing, she stood up, stopping to smile at one of her daughter

"Did.. you find them, mother?" Smiling sadly, she walked to her, holding her hands out, pulling her into her arms. Her wings automatically curling around her daughter as a cocoon as if? To protect her

"Not yet, my daughter.. but I will"

-

"Mama- is that-" her eldest asked, whispering out watching her parent. The one she and her sister sobbed for years seeing them not with in the afterlife. But seeing you in heaven? She couldn't help but be glad you were in such a safe place.

As if sensing someone looking, you turned seeing the three newcomers moving to walk up to them to the strangers

"There you are my lo-"

"hi~ I'm glad you made it in heaven~ what's your names? I'm sure there's helper angels for new angels~" you cut off Carmilla accidentally pulling out a almost scroll looking thing "sorry I'm well aware in hell some technology is more advanced and all but~ in heaven some things like this? The council loves the old feel~" humming

Blinking, she tilted her head now. Confused? Why weren't you throwing yourself in her arms? Not calling her your love? Your wife? Bile reached the back of her throat and now an unnerving feeling. That something? Is very, very wrong here

"Do you not know me?"

That made you stop looking up at her, slowly tilting your head in thought, "..no I'm sorry, I don't believe we ever met~" before she or her daughters could ask more a voice called out- making a huge smile appear on your face the same one you used to give her- her blood ran cold.

A beautiful woman stepped out of a house holding what looked like a child. Blinking, she watched as she walked to you, kissing you gently happily humming. She finally realized. The lack of a ring on your finger- well you did have a gold band. But not your band. Not the one you wore during your marriage. Not the one that matches hers.

"I'm sorry, my friends~ My wife needs me for a moment~" Do you need any more help?" After handing her the letter with the angels name to help her and her daughters - gently wrapping her arms around them, pulling them close, sensing how upset they were rightfully so.

"..m-may I ask what the little ones' name is?" Voice breaking, making you smile, grinning looking over at her "her names Carmilla~ I don't know why, but.. the name felt very important~" Purring out kissing the child's head gently making her close her eyes nodding

Turning she guided her daughters away from her lover- her now ex lover. Not stopping until they all reached their new home. Pulling them close sobbing along with them "did they abandon us?" In her tearfully state she didn't know who asked bur she was quick to shut that idea down kissing her daughters heads

"No, no- they'd never - not in a million centuries... heaven.. heaven makes angels forget demons. It's a cruel thing.. that I forgot about - im- I'm so sorry. " Holding them closer, sobbing loudly with them until they passed out from exhaustion looking out the window tearfully sorrowful. Like the day she lost you- she lost you permanently.

She couldn't WOULDN'T tell you. It'd be wrong. Even though she wishes to kiss you. Have you in her arms once more. She wouldn't do that to you. Or your wife. Especially with your child. Its none of your faults for the law of heaven and hell. But - she couldn't help but think. If she wasn't such a horrid woman in the living. Didn't get her daughters involved? Would she have gone to Heaven with you?

Would that child be hers?

It was a cruel, sick thought she quickly took away. Looking down disgusted with herself. She sighed

"I hope your.. happy my love" she whsipering rubbing the band on her finger. She needed time. Then she'll finally take it off. Closing her eyes she sighed.

Love is.. painful.

#hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla carmine #carmilla x reader #carmilla carmine x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader

[francesderwent]

my brain is fried i'm so overtired I've cried spontaneously at least once a day for the past three days will you please help a girl out with a soft cozy wholesome movie recc please and thank you

I’m so sorry my dear!! I dug to the depths of a bunch of old tag games and my film tag and this is what I came up with!

when I’m strung out I tend to gravitate to movies that will make me happy-cry so this list will at moments tend in that direction. I tried to sort by what was available to stream now, and the sub-lists are in no particular order

if you have amazon prime (the basic package):

Penelope (2006). highly recommend, a funny little modern fairy tale about a lonely young girl searching for a way to break her curse. this one heals something in my heart

Stardust. also highly recommend! a chaotic fairy tale about true love and what a person would do for it.

Street Gang. the Sesame Street documentary. sometimes people are good and they’re trying to make the world a better place and they’re doing it with their friends.

How To Train Your Dragon. it’s a perfectly executed film and the score and animation is gorgeous. (also available on netflix)

if you have netflix:

Feel the Beat. a dance flick about a seemingly cold-hearted ambitious young woman becoming a dance teacher in her hometown

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. so so so rewatchable.

She’s the Man. the funniest movie on this list and possibly of all time. I have never shown this movie to a person who didn’t end up loving it. it’s Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night at boarding school as a soccer movie

if you have tubi?? you might not need a membership I don’t know how tubi works??

The Music Man. some of the best costumes and choreography my favorite age of movie musicals had to offer. a con man comes to a small Iowa town and starts to want to believe in the beautiful lie he’s selling.

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. this movie was written by Roald Dahl and it is buck wild. widowed inventor and his two children buy a broken down racing car and?? hijinks and musical numbers ensue

if you have disney plus:

Princess Diaries (1&2). we know them, we love them.

Sky High. if you haven’t seen this, I highly recommend it because it is silly fun but it understands the genre it’s playing with.

Newsies (1992). scrappy newsboys form a union, sing songs, punch each other, ???, profit

Holes. the single best adapted book to film ever? the cast commentary is also hilarious

Rodgers and Hammerstein Cinderella (1997). absolutely delightful. Whitney Houston as the godmother! Jason Alexander as the butler! Brandy as Cinderella! Bernadette Peters as the stepmother!

if you feel up for a trip to the library, things to look for:

The Hundred Foot Journey. I only saw this one once but it’s about a family who opens up an Indian restaurant across from a Michelin-starred French restaurant and it’s gorgeous

A League of Their Own (1992). sisters! best friends! married women and their disreputable drunk coach friends!

The Secret Garden (1993). highly recommend! this one fixes me down to my bones.

This Beautiful Fantastic. also highly recommend! a woman who’s afraid of the world falls in love with it.

Secondhand Lions. also highly recommend!! a boy gets dropped off with his great-uncles for the summer, hears possibly made-up stories of their wild and adventurous youth

August Rush. a young musical prodigy searches for his parents.

Sense and Sensibility (1995). if you need Austen energy, this is the one.

Cinderella (2015). this movie is so gentle and so lovely.

Little Women (1994). life is gonna be hard and sad but it’s gonna be beautiful and the love will endure!!!

I hope this helps and I hope you feel better! ❤️❤️

#I didn’t put Far From the Madding Crowd on here because it gets a little fraught in the middle there #but the ending is so so so comforting to me #I didn’t put love and monsters or speed on here because they are full of love BUT they are stressful #more so than the stuff here #asks

[clementine-writes-things]

Edward Nashton Headcanons

Summary: My personal headcanons for Edward Nashton. Again, these are MY personal headcanons and I use them for when I write about him. So, yeah. I can't believe I'm just now writing headcanons for this guy. This is long overdue.

Content Warning: Sexual themes (there will be a section for NSFW headcanons), angst, trauma, and smoking. I have so many headcanons for this man...

(literally going to eat him)

~Read Below Cut~

~

(Before this starts, I want to clarify something. Run Rabbit Run, a series I made, is my personal 'background' story for y/n and Edward. Of course I don't use that story in all my Edward Nashton fanfics bc I have other ideas yk. But, overall, it's my personal headcanon story for him. So a lot of these headcanons will apply to that. I hope that makes sense lmao. Run rabbit run is like my concrete headcanon, and every other fanfic I've written about Edward is pretty loosey goosey and just for fun.)

(ALSO IN MY HEADCANON HE NEVER BOMBED THE SEAWALL AND ONLY KILLED FALCONE AND THOSE DIRTY POLITICIANS SO SHUT UP BLAHBLAHBLAH I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT GOTHAM BEING UNDER WATER RAHHHHHHH <3 okie thx)

SFW Headcanons:

He has autism 110%. He got tested for it when he got out of the orphanage and was not surprised when he discovered he had it.

He loves journaling. Sometimes he will scrapbook. He likes to document his feelings/thoughts, especially when he's feeling down.

One of my headcanons is that his Riddler persona is always apart of him. He can't 'get rid' of it. So, he goes to therapy to deal with it and the journaling helps a lot with it.

^following off on that, I think that after the events he did and after being with y/n he genuinely tries to reform. He would use his 'crave for justice' and apply it to protesting and standing up for human rights and stuff like that. So like, imagine roaringkitty from Dumb Money. He always informed ppl about stocks. Edward is like that except it's about social justice and equality. Slay.

He really loves fruit. Like a lot. He favors kiwi and watermelon a lot.

he likes to make protein shakes/smoothies for breakfast a lot!

because he's a boyfriend that acts like a dad, y/n once got him a "World's Best Dad" shirt for April Fools (since that's also his birthday, y/n actually got him a real gift too which was a photo of them in a cute little picture frame) but he found the shirt to be really funny so he'll occasionally wear it out in public and everyone is always confused

"World's best dad? How many kids do you have?" A woman asked.

"None."

"Oh..."

*he proceeds to leave the conversation and leave the woman extremely confused and concerned*

He smoked for a little while when he didn't care about his own health, but he stopped when he started dating y/n. It's difficult for him, but with y/n's encouragement he's doing a great job.

he goes to therapy

he listens to Lana Del Rey occasionally, but only cuz y/n listens to her...although he doesn't mind listening to her music...

although he doesn't really look like it, he LOVES metal. His favorite bands for heavy metal/ NU metal is as follows (ranked from most fav to least fav): System Of A Down, Megadeth, Korn, Slipknot, Metallica, Slayer)

Other bands/singers he likes are (in no order/specific genre): The Cramps, Weezer, Green Day, ICP, Gorillaz, Billy Idol, I Monster, Talking Heads (he loves the Talking Heads sm)

He also likes 'oldies' like The Inkspots, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Billie Holiday.

When he started dating y/n, he started to listen to hyperpop (bc y/n listens to hyperpop IN MY HEADCANON)

He isn't the biggest fan of hyperpop, but he doesn't HATE it. he actually loves some certain songs/artists. (mainly likes Lumi Athena and 100 gecs)

when edward and y/n go out to a social gathering, it looks like this:

but tbh, that's just how they look next to each other 24/7 lmao

edward loves to read books, especially classics like Frankenstein, Dracula, For Whom The Bell Tolls, A Clockwork Orange, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (bro loves banned books)

loves spoiling y/n with all his heart. the only thing keeping him from being a sugar daddy is that he is in the same age range as y/n. but other than that, he literally acts like a sugar daddy.

has a BUNCH of nicknames he made specifically for y/n such as: rabbit, bunny, firecracker, spazz, crackhead/drophead, and the sweetest one of all... "dickrider🥺" and he calls them that during silly little arguments or when y/n gets sassy

"Blah blah blah, Edward. I don't wanna hear it." - y/n

"Whatever, dickrider." - Edward

"'Scuse me?" - y/n

"You heard me. Dickrider." - Edward

"I am not a dickrider!" - y/n

"Well..." - Edward

"No." - y/n

"Wellllll..." - Edward

"No. Shush." - y/n

"Fine...dickrider..." -Edward

"EDWARD!" - y/n

Edward dresses like a 40 y/o divorced dad trying to learn the floss at a BBQ in a relatives backyard (so slacks and a polo/button up shirt)

y/n forces him to expand his wardrobe so he occasionally wears actual t-shirts and jeans sometimes, shorts, sweaters, etc.

Edward occasionally likes to grow out his hair slightly (kinda like Paul Dano's haircut in Ruby Sparks)

dyes his hair occasionally (mainly black but he once did black with SUBTLE dark green highlights)

he hates oatmeal, porridge, grits, Jell-O, and pudding. the consistency makes him want to scream. (same)

he is the most LGBTQIA+ friendly person ever. if he is meeting someone for the first time, he asks their pronouns.

i think that he is queer. i don't think he really has a specific sexuality. he's just queer, yk? but, that's really it.

goes to pride parades with y/n (I HEADCANON HIM DATING A NON-BINARY SHE/THEY AFAB PERSON OK LEAVE ME ALONEEE)

he GENUINELY loves to sing and will often sing y/n to sleep if they are having trouble.

he can play lots of instruments but has a preference for guitars (electric/bass/acoustic)

loves Breaking Bad.

hates Walter White.

he makes references to the show so much that it's concerning

"Oh shit! I just broke this plate!" - y/n

"Is it bad?" - Edward

"No, not really, bu-" - y/n

"Did it break bad?" - Edward

"Edward..." - y/n

"Was it breaking bad?" - Edward

"Get out of my apartment." - y/n

"Can you still cook? Can you still cook after breaking bad?" - Edward

"Edward Nashton, I'm going to hurt you." - y/n

he really likes stop motion moves, he admires how much work is put into them (loves Fantastic Mr. Fox the most. Coraline is a close second.)

he doesn't mind PDA, he actually loves it. he's proud to show off his partner (but he doesn't do anything more than kissing and cuddling in public...sometimes...maybe in a bathroom or a closet...hehe...)

sometimes he'll have nightmares about the orphanage and he'll wake up crying. y/n will hold him and comfort him back to sleep. he'll tell his therapist about the dream asap and work through it with them.

he'll also have nightmares about being the 'Riddler' again. those scare the shit out of him. he doesn't want to be that person again. his past haunts him frequently, even though he is reformed.

he knows how to sew very well and will sew customizations on his clothing and y/n's clothing. Example: hearts on their jeans, question marks on his sweatpants, stuff like that.

he knows that no one will truly forget what he did as the 'Riddler', but he hopes that donating to charities, raising money for them, and giving advice to others will show people that he's a changed man. but, all that really matters is that y/n knows he's a changed man.

practices drawing/painting/sketching in his free time (he loves to use charcoal, water colors, and oil pastels)

he hates when his skin is dry, so he lotions all the time. he has the softest skin ever. but, his hands are usually rough because he plays guitar and he has callouses built up. yet, it feels oddly nice against y/n's skin.

RANDOM THINGS I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD SAY: (ik this isn't really a headcanon but i just want you to see how much of a nerd/weirdo he is)

"You know, flamingos get their pink color from eating carotenoids. They are born a pale grey, but over time they get the pink hue that we know them for. Although, it's very rare for them to be a hot pink, more of a coral."

"No, y/n, you cannot drink the dish soap and burp bubbles. I don't think that's even possible."

*watching Tom & Jerry* "These physics are so unrealistic. Tom would be pulverized underneath that anvil. Blood and guts would be everywhere." *y/n looks at him with a horrified look* "Um, I mean...what a...what a goofy cat..."

*walks up to y/n with his phone in his hand* "So uh, one of my twitch followers in my stream today said I was 'Serving... *spells out c*nt*' and they also said that I 'ate and...left no crumbs?' is that a good thing?" *y/n laughs* "That's a very good thing." *he smiles*

"I saw a pigeon get it's head stuck in a donut today. It reminded me of you."

"Male ducks have corkscrew penises. So, they literally screw each other."

"Please stop putting your fingers in my mouth when I yawn."

"Yes I want a damn scooby snack. They sound fucking delicious."

"How am I supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions, y/n? How!?"

"Y/n, be honest...do these jeans my butt look big?"

"A kid at the library threw a book at me and I contemplated drop kicking him."

"Please, for the love of God. Stop calling me the Rizzler. I...I don't know what that means..."

"Are you the backrooms? Cuz, I think I'm getting lost inside of you. Wait...that sounds weird. Um, forget that. Do you wanna kiss me now?"

"I'm not straight, but...that's all."

"One of my followers on Twitch said I look like the moon emoji. Banned."

"Edward, I'm afraid we can't make mac & cheese tonight. We're all out." - y/n

"Why? Do not be afraid..." - Edward (in the most deadpan voice)

"Well...now I'm very afraid..." - y/n

NSFW HEADCANONS! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!:

Dom all the way. He has too much of an ego to be a sub. Ik a lot of ppl say he would be a sub, but I strongly disagree. Maybe he'd try it a few times.

This guy is too kinky, it would take 500 pages to list them (not rlly but ykwim)

He can bounce back between being completely vanilla and being ao3 type of kinky

some of his personal fav kinks are: BDSM (bro is sadistic prove me wrong), he is also a bit of a masochist though; choking; overstimulation; he has a daddy/sir kink; he actually likes roleplay a good bit, but it just has to be something good.

(one time y/n and Edward tried to do a college professor/college student roleplay and it was so fucking funny they couldn't go through with it. y/n said "Is there anything I can do to make my grade better Professor Nashton?" and he said "Do a better job...?" and that's when they both realized they couldn't get through it.)

Edward doesn't think sex is super important in a relationship, so he can go a long time without it. But, sometimes...he just wants to touch y/n. Not even have sex. Let me explain...

^sometimes he'll ask y/n if he can just finger them or eat them out, something like that. he doesn't even want to cum, he just wants to make them cum.

He developed a fond and cruel taste for teasing y/n in public. Sometimes he'll subtly make a fingering motion if he's picking something up. Or, he'll rub their inner thigh while sitting at a table. He usually only does this if y/n has an 'attitude' or if he wants to hint that he wants to have sex that night. However, if y/n ever gets uncomfortable during his teasing, all they have to do is tap him on the knee/shoulder and he'll know. They both respect boundaries <3

This is a bit of an angsty one, but sometimes during sex, he'll realize how lucky he is to be with y/n. So, he'll stop whatever he was doing and just hold them close to him. The sex after that is usually gentle and soft, which y/n actually really likes. He'll cry and tell them that he loves them so much and when they are both done, he'll just spoon them and find comfort in their body heat.

he is the KING of weird sex positions and weird places to have sex. he once fucked y/n in the closet at one of their friends house. it was cramped, so he had one of their ankles lifted on his shoulder and their other leg hoked around his waist. if y/n wants him to fuck them, he'll find a way. trust.

he really likes being praised during sex bc it makes him feel proud. it also feeds his ego a lot, but eh! hehe

if there was a competition for who could "do the best dirty talk" Edward would win it immediately by a landslide. y/n was the first person he ever had sex with, but they swear it was like he was a "professional" at it. he says such vulgar and erotic things and its jarring coming from such a sweet face. y/n loves it. what things does he say? well, let's start with sweet things he'll say during sex...

"You're so breathtaking below me, y/n. You're glowing."

"How is it that you looks so angelic while I'm fucking you?"

"You're doing such a good job, baby. You feel so good."

"That's it cara mia, cum for Eddie."

"You're making my heart race, honey. It just might burst out of my chest if you keep this up..."

^Aw, wasn't that so sweet :3 hehe, that's what he says a lot during vanilla and occasionally during some kinky sex. but, what does he say when he's in a "I'm going to fuck the soul out of you" mood? Uh...

"I know it feels heavenly, but you really ought to keep your voice down. You don't want to get caught, do you? Or, perhaps...that's exactly what you want. So filthy..." (while fucking you in a public bathroom)

"I wonder how long it'll take you to start begging for more...oh, there we go. Hm, not long at all..."

"I won't bite you hard, maybe, but I can't say the same about fucking you."

"What's the matter, rabbit? All fucked out and dumb? But, I haven't even started round 3 yet..."

"If you want it so bad, then why don't you bark for it? Yes, I'm aware you're not a dog, but I assure I can easily leash you up like one if you aren't a good girl/boy."

"I'm going to make sure you can't walk straight for a week. You know I can do it."

"You were starving for it. You were drooling over it. Now, you're gagging on it. How's it feel shoved down your pretty throat?"

"I don't care if they can hear us. That just means they know how good you're getting dicked down. Why don't you moan my name a little louder, make sure they remember who's doing this to you."

"'Oh Edward! Edward!' You sound so fucking cute when you're whining. Do it again. Louder."

"Suck on it like it's fucking candy. You're gonna get every last drop."

"Look at you. Before, you were teasing me in public, torturing me. And now, your face is shoved in the mattress while I'm fucking you from behind. Not so fucking cocky now, are you?"

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEEH

He's also AMAZING at aftercare. He'll give y/n a bath, sometimes he'll even take a shower with them.

He will always clean y/n's legs/pelvic area (and anywhere else that needs cleaning) with a damp rag every single time they finish having sex.

If he was particularly rough with y/n, he'll give them a gentle massage afterwards and tell them how good they did.

being the paranoid boyfriend that he is, he'll always remind y/n to pee afterwards so they don't get a UTI. he'll also tell them to drink lots of water.

One of his favorite things to do for aftercare is have them lay across his lap or sit on his lap or snuggle up against his side as they both watch a movie or TV show (it's usually Breaking Bad or My Little Pony. the duality of man.)

Tbh, if he can't make y/n's legs sore for at least an entire day after having sex, he doesn't think he did a good job.

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #the riddler #dc universe #gotham #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #danonator #danocel #dano riddler #paul dano riddler #batman 2022

[ladydorian05]

Fuck it weekend because this is a whole fic

BI BUCK IS CANON!!!!!!

I started writing this fic before the episode aired. This was inpired by this post.

I don't know what this is, but it's the first thing I've written in a while so, hope you like whatever this is.

Big shout out to @made-ofmemories for beta reading and helping me write some parts of this.

Also, special thanks to @wikiangela @daffi-990 @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @pirrusstuff @neverevan @giddyupbuck @bidisasterbuckdiaz @jesuisici33 for still tagging me in the weekly wip games even if I haven't been that active in a while (also, consider this your no pressure tag❤)❤❤ (and I'm sorry if I'm missing people I lost the list of people that used to tag me) I hope This will be my come back to writing.

Eddie's UNO Reverse

AO3

Summary:

“You know, he’s different, not only because he’d be the first man I’d try to date in, let’s just say a while. Spending time with him feels good. Like-” Eddie pauses, purses his lips the way he does when he’s thinking about something and then he says it. “Like he sees me.”

And just how the fuck is Buck supposed to take that? Here’s Eddie, literally contemplating a future with a man he just met, a complete stranger, and saying all of this to Buck’s face!? He’s really going to consider a stranger over the person who has known him for years, to the person who can basically read his mind with just a look! To the man who actually sees him because he’s known him for the better part of half a decade and now that he can be honest to himself, the man who’s been helping him raise the most amazing kid in the world!?

He hasn’t been hyping himself up to ask Eddie out on a date for weeks just for a stranger to come waltzing in and steal his partner right in front of him. Not again.

Or the one where Eddie speaks with Buck about Tommy the same way Buck talked about Natalia. And Buck doesn't take it well.

Word count: 3k something

Tags: Jealousy, Eddie's pettyness backfires (in the best way possible), getting together. It gets a bit spicy.

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

“I didn't expect to get along with Tommy so well, he's been nice.” Eddie comments as he lets his duffle bag drop to the floor next to the door.

“Yeah, he seems like a cool guy.” Buck follows him inside, he leaves his own bag next to Eddie’s and makes his way to the open space that makes up the kitchen area of his loft. He watches as Eddie opens the fridge and grabs two beers.

They just came back from the basketball court, they invited Tommy to hang out with them once things settled down after the cruise rescue. They all promised to make an effort to hang out more, and apparently Hen and Chim’s old teammate made a good impression on Eddie.

”We made plans to go to next week’s baseball game, said he had an extra ticket.” Eddie passes him his beer, their fingers brushing.

“Really?” Buck takes a long sip of his beer, hoping that he sounded normal and not upset. It was his idea to invite Tommy to their regular basketball hang out in the first place. He wanted him to feel included, to let him know that they appreciated that he placed his career on the line to help them get to Bobby and Athena. And well, even if he’s no longer with the 118 he should still be considered a friend, family. He just never considered that he’d be the one feeling left out.

He might not be a big baseball fan but they could have asked even if just to not be rude.

“You know, I might just try something with him,” Eddie says, far too casual. Buck chokes on his beer, thumping his fist against his chest twice before he regains his composure. “It’s been almost a month since Marisol and I broke up, so might as well.”

“What?” Buck croaks, carbonation from the beer still burning at the back of his throat.

“I mean, we have a lot in common. He says he’s good with kids, has been in the army, he’s a widower like me, he likes sports, has a good sense of humor, since he was a firefighter and now a rescue pilot he most definitely won’t have a problem with my crazy work schedule. Plus he’s nice as we previously stated and he’s not bad looking.”

“I guess.” The fact that Eddie is considering dating a man doesn’t come out of nowhere, they’ve had more than one conversation on their interests and on Eddie’s part on how he’s never felt like he could act upon those feelings or even mention that he’s interested in men before. The wonders of going to therapy.

Still, this is the first time he ever mentioned wanting to go on a date with a guy. With Tommy. He’d say yes, of course he would. Who wouldn't say yes to Eddie!

“You know, he’s different, not only because he’d be the first man I’d try to date in, let’s just say a while. Spending time with him feels good. Like-” Eddie pauses, purses his lips the way he does when he’s thinking about something and then he says it. “Like he sees me.”

And just how the fuck is Buck supposed to take that? Here’s Eddie, literally contemplating a future with a man he just met, a complete stranger, and saying all of this to Buck’s face!? He’s really going to consider a stranger over the person who has known him for years, to the person who can basically read his mind with just a look! To the man who actually sees him because he’s known him for the better part of half a decade and now that he can be honest to himself, the man who’s been helping him raise the most amazing kid in the world!?

He hasn’t been hyping himself up to ask Eddie out on a date for weeks just for a stranger to come waltzing in and steal his partner right in front of him. Not again.

“What do you mean he sees you?” Buck asks, placing his beer on the counter.

“You know, like he understands the struggles and sees beyond what I let people see.” Buck sees him shrug his shoulders as if what he just said is the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, any other person that's not close to me.”

”Eddie, you’re sounding crazy right now.” 

“What? Why?” Eddie asks. 

“Why? You’re really asking why?” He raises his eyebrows incredulously at his best friend.

“Yeah, you just agreed that he’s a nice guy.” Buck watches as Eddie also leaves his beer on the side and crosses his arms in front of him.

“But you just met him.”

“Yeah, but there's the fact that we almost died together in that hurricane and he also risked his job to help us rescue our friends, that says a lot about him. To me it says he’s loyal.”

“There were 3 other people on that chopper that almost died with you and that you’ve known for years.” Buck takes a few steps away from the counter and starts pacing as he speaks, he needs to move or else he’s going to, to… Okay he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t move but he needs to just not stay still. “How can you say that someone who you’ve met twice and only really spoken with once ‘sees you’?”

Why does this whole situation feels familiar? It’s like a deja vu. Like Buck’s heard something similar before, like he's had this same conversation in the past but different.

And then it hits him.

He’s taken back to a couple of months ago, when they were standing at a graveyard.

‘There's something... different about her. I-I feel like she sees me. You know? Like she-she really sees me for who I am and what I've been through.’

Oh.

OH.

He said the same thing about Natalia after just one coffee date. And Eddie, Eddie just listened to him, he let him speak and didn’t question his reasoning. However wrong it turned out to be.

And here he was, criticizing his choice to find happiness, ready to try and live his life without caring what anyone may think of him for dating another man.

All because he's jealous, because the man in question isn't him.

Shit.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. I’m an idiot, I’m such a hypocritical idiot! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Wait what? Buck-”

“No, no, I am. I said the exact same thing to you about Natalia months ago and you just listened to me and-and supported me.” He stood still for a moment once the realization hit him, but now he was back to pacing.

“Buck.”

“You didn't question me like I was doing a moment ago. It doesn't matter that my relationship didn't go anywhere, because that's just me, forever cursed to fuck up and act on impulse. But it doesn't mean it'll be the same for you, if you say he sees you, he sees you, that's fine I believe you.” He knew he was doing that thing when he talks and gestures with his hands that most of his teachers used to find kind of annoying, but he just could never control it. Even less so now that he’s sure Eddie must think he’s a horrible friend for not being happy that he’s putting himself out there trying to find a romantic partner.

And he really is such a horrible friend, he should be putting his feelings aside and encouraging Eddie to look for happiness. He must do that, he’ll fix it, from this moment on he’ll be all in.

“Buck.”

“I'll support you, even if it kills me inside I’ll deal with it. I’ll be your wingman. My jealousy is my problem. I want you to be happy even if it’s not with me, even if I stay your friend and nothing more for the rest of my life I’ll learn to deal with my feelings I swear, Eddie. And-”

“Evan!” The use of his name and the weight of Eddie’s hands on his shoulders stops him abruptly from continuing his pacing. “Hold on, I'm the one that should be apologizing.”

“No, why? I was the one being-” 

“Evan, I’m sorry. I- I said that on purpose to mess with you a little, I didn’t think it’d upset you this much. I’m so sorry, it was such a stupid and petty thing to say I just,” Eddie sighs, “You actually just voiced just about everything that went on in my head when you said that about Natalia, with the exception of you using nicer words than I would have, had I voiced my thoughts back then.”

“You- back when- what?” He feels Eddie’s hands leaving his shoulders, missing his touch for the few seconds it takes for them to move to his face.

“Okay, Buck. I need you to listen closely, I do like Tommy, he seems great and when I got invited to the baseball game I did consider trying to have something with him. That was before, before I learned that you were jealous, that maybe I could have a chance, because he’s no Evan Buckley.”

“But if- you were jealous back then, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, it had been a while since you told me you were Bi and I told you that I’m also into men even if I don’t really like labels. When our relationship stayed the same after that and when you started dating Natalia I just thought that maybe you didn’t feel the same way or weren’t into me like that. And so I- I invited Marisol on a date.”

“You’re kidding, right? Shit, Eddie. We’re both a pair of idiots.” Buck huffs in exasperation. “I tried to make it work with Natalia for the exact same reason.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” They stare at each other for a moment, processing all that has been said in the last fifteen or so minutes, before bursting into laughter. “So, we could have been dating since last year?”

“Guess we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for then.” Eddie smirks and Buck becomes very suddenly aware of just how close they are. One of Eddie’s hands has moved to cup the back of his neck, fingertips brushing against the soft hairs at the nape, the other has started to trail down Buck’s arm. All he’d have to do is tilt his head just a little bit.

Eddie beats him to it.

The kiss is chaste, barely more than the press of Eddie’s lips against his own before they pull away again. 

“Sorry, I just- and you-” Buck worries at his bottom lip, tasting the bitter malt of Eddie’s preferred beer brand that lingers there as his best friend fumbles with his words. “You have no idea for how long I've wanted to do that.”

“I can guess.” Buck whispers before capturing Eddie's lips again. in a deeper kiss. Having no more reasons to restrain himself he pours all of him into the kiss.

It's messy and kind of uncoordinated but so good. He's not sure  who deepens the kiss first or when it happens, but figuring out the details is not high on his list of priorities when Eddie is licking into his mouth like a man starved. It's messy and uncoordinated, teeth colliding when Buck tries to suck Eddie's bottom lip between his own with a little too much enthusiasm and Eddie returns it by smiling into it, but it's perfect. And Buck wants more. His hands wander, leaving their anchor on Eddie's waist in his mission to map out every dip and ridge of his body, keen to touch everywhere he can in a way he's never been able to before.

Buck leans down a bit until he can get his hands on the back of Eddie's thighs and lifts him up, his legs immediately going around his waist most likely on instinct, he takes a few steps until he reaches the counter behind Eddie and places him there.

“Oh shit.” Eddie pants, breaking the kiss. Buck takes the opportunity to lavish his neck with kisses.

“Buck.” He moans as Buck sucks on a spot just below Eddie's ear. “Hold on, Buck. We're going too fast.”

He stops immediately, he would never do anything or go further than what his partner would allow. Even back in his wilder years, he prided himself in always making sure his advances were wanted.

“Sorry, sorry. You're right. Too fast.” He takes a deep breath and lets his forehead rest on Eddie’s left shoulder as Eddie cards his right hand through his product free blonde curls. Eddie taps his back twice, it’s all the indication he needs to understand that Eddie wants to get down from the counter. Buck takes a step back to give him just enough space for that, not wanting to actually leave too much space between them. He really wants to stay as close to him as possible right now.

Once Eddie’s feet are back on the ground they stay still for a moment, their foreheads resting against each other.

“Just for the record,” Buck says, breaking the peaceful silence between them, “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

His words are rewarded with Eddie’s blinding smile, the big unrestrained one he’s only seen when they’re either alone or when they’re with Chris. That one smile that reaches his eyes and lights up his whole face. He loves that smile, he loves everything Eddie.

“Then, just for the record.” Eddie chuckles. “I love you too, Evan.” He can’t help but lean in and capture Eddie’s lips with his own again. His hands that were previously on Eddie’s hips, playing with his belt hoops, pull him by them so that they can be as close as humanly possible while still being clothed.

Eddie is sucking Buck’s tongue into his mouth and god damn it if they don’t stop right now he’ll have to take the longest cold shower known in history. The fact that he can actually feel Eddie’s hardness against his own doesn’t help at all.

“Slow.” He manages to break the kiss with a wet pop. “We agreed on going slow.” He knows he sounds wrecked and so out of breath and really, if they hadn't agreed to take their time he’d already be guiding Eddie towards the stairs to his bed.

They take a moment to get their breathing back to normal.

“Yeah, you’re right, we’ll go the pace we feel like going.” Buck gives him a questioning look at that. “Hey, I reconsidered and slow is for people that need to know each other, to figure out if they’ll work out. I’m completely sure we don’t really need all that time. We’ve been partners for years, we were just missing the kissing part and… the other stuff too.” Eddie says that last part at the same time as his hands trail down the panes of Buck’s back to land on his ass.

“We’re going to be so bad at slow.” Buck groans.

“I know.” Eddie snorts. “We did transition from enemies to friends in the span of one shift.”

“Alright, alright. Are you hungry?” Buck watches as Eddie gives him a once over and he already knows that whatever Eddie is about to say is going to make the situation going on in his pants worse.

“Starving,” the little shithead has the gall to smirk. “But I can go for a pizza or chinese.”

“Jesus, Eddie.” He pushes away from his laughing… boyfriend? Okay, mental reminder to talk about relationship labels later. “You’re killing me. Just for that, you’re stuck ordering our food, meanwhile I’m going to take a shower.”

He starts making his way up to his loft to grab comfortable clothes to change into after his shower.

“Leave some of that cold water for me, babe!” Eddie calls from the kitchen, his voice laced with mirth.

“Shut up! And that’s not how it works, that’s for hot water not cold! You can’t run out of cold water!” He knows he completely failed to sound annoyed, he’s just too happy to be anything but elated at the turn of events.

He confessed to Eddie, he told him that he loves him and Eddie said it back. He’ll be walking on cloud 9 for the rest of the month. Hell maybe even for the rest of his life.

After dinner and with Christopher spending the night at a friend’s house, Eddie decides to stay for the night and it’s only after they’re both tucked into bed that Buck remembers the catalyst of the night’s events. 

“Eddie?” He gets a noncommittal humm in response. “What about your date?” 

“What date?” This time Eddie does answer sounding so sleepy and confused.

“Your date with Tommy.” Did he forget? He gets that a lot of things just happened tonight but to completely forget what started it all?

“Oh yeah, about that, it was never really a date, I did say he invited me, but I never said it’d be just the two of us. Chim is coming too.”

What. Did. He. Just. Say.

It wasn’t a date!?

“Don’t you think you should have started with that!?” 

“Sorry, love. Think about it this way, if I had mentioned that Chim was also invited, we wouldn’t be here now. Who knows how many years it would have taken for us to finally get together.”

“Then why didn’t you guys invite me?” His bottom lip just out in what is definitely not a pout and the rough pad of Eddie's thumb traces over it.

“Buck you don’t like Baseball, you’d be fast asleep during the first inning.”

“Still, you could have asked.”

“Next time. I promise,” Eddie says, his hand has moved, no longer tracing the plump line of Buck's lower lip but now trailing a lazy line down one of Buck's arms under the covers. 

“Are you still going?”

“I plan to. It’s a free ticket after all.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder and Buck takes the momentary pause in Eddie's movement as an opportunity to lace their fingers together. “But before that, I plan on taking you out for dinner this weekend. Would you like that?”

“I’d love that.”

“Alright, then it’s a date.” The end of Eddie's sentence is slurred with sleep, his eyes already closed. 

Buck gives Eddie's hand a squeeze, their fingers still interlocked and watches the corner of Eddie's lip quirk up in the ghost of a smile before he lets his eyes slip closed, mind filled with thoughts of their date. Buck can’t wait.

#Fic: Eddie's UNO Reverse #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #inspired by the promos for s7 ep 4 #Bisexual Buck!!!!! #ladydorian writes #my fic

[briyourmotherdown]

cool water ★ part I

James Hetfield x fem!reader

★ everyone is running from something ★

Words: 6.7k

Warnings: i know nothing about arizona and it shows. VERY incorrect timeline. mentions of rehab and alcoholism. james is a moody prick. 18+ in the future but part I is PG minus some swearing.

A/N: so i'm asking you all, please, PLEASE be kind to me because this is the first fic i've written in well over a year and the first metallica one I've ever posted. this is so unbelievably self indulgent it's insane. title named after a marty robbins song because that's where this whole idea stemmed from. i tried not to use y/n because i know some people hate that jhskjfhkjhfthftdhftkj. also i really really hope the fact that rehab is in here isn't a trigger or upsetting to anyone!!! it just makes sense for the plot. it's also very inspired by the some kind of monster documentary. this will probably be a shorter fit made up of a few parts but it may take a while since i'm literally about to graduate uni and i'm drawing in assignments. anyways i hope you enjoy &lt;3

parts: (1), (2)

★

  A few states over, a little over a thousand miles and a few days long trek away, lies a life– packed crudely into a beat up Subaru with too many miles on the metre to go about adding another thousand. The air conditioning unit cracked out one state back, leaving only the rolled down windows to offer any sort of reprieve against the Western American summer heat. The unknown lies in the interstate ahead, yellow lines and road signs guiding you closer to your next destination. Only the front windows are open, the rear windows obstructed by precariously stacked belongings in unsealed cardboard boxes and garbage bags balanced against the glass. To roll them down would mean losing a good chunk of your clothing. 

   A map is sprawled out open on the passenger seat, red lines and circles marking the last stretch of your journey into Yuma County, Arizona. Golden light pours over countless acres of sprawling farmland ahead of you, the setting sun glaring into your eyes beneath your sin visor as you drive with one hand on the wheel and the other propping your head up against the open window. Your yellow Subaru is the only vehicle for miles, alone on the barren road as the sky fades into an inky blue. It’s eerie, being this alone. Eerie as you turn down yet another country lane, rolling the windows up. Eerie as you make sure the doors are locked and the gas tank full. Eerie for a girl who’d only left the city twenty-four hours prior, where such silence and solitude was such a rarity that you never stopped to consider what it felt like to actually be completely alone. 

   The night is still when you reach a stop sign, the hiss of crickets and cicadas audible even from inside the car. There’s no breeze that rustles the trees, nor a cloud to taint the clarity of the starry night sky. You feel as though you should be quiet and hold your breath, goosebumps raising on your skin. They only begin to subside when your headlights illuminate a sign reading Palo Verde Ranch. 

   Tires kick up dust as you roll down the tree-lined passage, inching closer and closer to where you will spend the next summer, checking the map one more time and breathing a sigh of relief when the trees part way to an opening. The ranch and lodgings look the same as the pictures in the brochure you were given, apart from being shrouded in a heavy darkness from the night. The porch lights are on, along with a few lamp posts circled by moths and mosquitoes. Pulling into an empty space next to a pick-up, you kill the engine and rest your head back against the headrest. The roar of the crickets seem even louder as you sit silently in the driver’s seat. 

   With a few final taps on your steering wheel with your fingers, you heave yourself from sitting position and stretch your aching legs, lifting your arms above your head before grabbing your suitcase from the backseat and forgoing the rest until tomorrow. It’s far too dark to go about it now. Boots crunch on gravelly dirt as you make your way to the lodging house, reading the brochure once more to check where the key is kept. It lays underneath a small terracotta pot, placed upside down and completely indiscrete. It makes you smile to yourself when you lift it up to examine it against the porch light– a small, metal cactus keychain hanging from it. You smack a mosquito from your arm as you unlock the door. 

   With a creak, the door opens up into the lodging house, though to you it seems more like a bungalow that had been converted into some sort of bed and breakfast. There’s a small kitchen to your left, under-cabinet lights casting an amber glow over the linoleum countertop and laminate floors. You take note of the humming refrigerator before turning to your right to examine a quaint sitting area, equipped with a floral printed sofa straight from the 1970s and a chestnut bookshelf housing a sparse assortment of books and magazines. It reminds you slightly of a waiting room– pretending to be lived in as to put you at ease. 

   Straight ahead lies the hallway, two doors on the left-hand side and three on the right, one of which has been left ajar. Upon further inspection, with slow, easy steps, you come to realise that it’s the bathroom, nose scrunching up slightly at the prospect of having to share one bathroom with multiple other people. On every door is a hand painted number, accented by flowers painted on in pastel colours. Very Bohemian, you note, eyeing the beaded curtain that hangs in the windowsill of the window at the end of the hall. Dim light spills from underneath doors three and four, but the other two remain dark. 

   Your room number is two. 

   Opening the door, you flick the light switch on before closing it behind you, a small puff of air escaping from between your lips as you take in the room. It’s cozy– genuinely, unlike the sitting room from before. It nearly reminds you of the room you’d grown up in, or, at least spent the earliest years of your childhood in. A golden oak bed sits against the wall in one corner of the room next to the window, fitted in cream and pale green floral patterned sheets. There’s a dresser-vanity and a wardrobe of the same golden oak, and a small nightstand next to the bed. On it beneath the small tiffany lamp lies an unopened note and a small plush teddy bear. 

   Tears fog your eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed and drop your suitcase at your feet. It feels so familiar– like a distant memory of a time in your life where things weren’t so turned upside down. A time when you weren’t running from something. Clutching the teddy bear against your chest, you open the note– a sweet, handwritten one from the owner of the land, welcoming you to your home for the summer. It tells you of breakfast in the main house at 10am, that there are fresh towels in the wardrobe, and that the vanity drawers tend to be a bit fiddly. 

   With a watery sigh, you blink up at the ceiling to clear your cloudy vision, flopping backwards onto the bed.

★

   James knew that he needed a distraction. 

   He knew better than to be around all the same people and places from how he was before. Breathing the same California air he knew and once loved now feels too thick in his lungs, like some sort of poisonous gas. 

   He knew better than to be around reminders. 

   Due to his therapist’s orders, James was to go somewhere different for a little while. In his words, to “relax, be at one with nature”. He had spread a pile of pamphlets across his desk, closing his eyes and laying his pointer finger down on the first one it came in contact with. Arizona didn’t seem to appeal to James’ bandmates as much as it did to his therapist. They had a hard enough time communicating as is, too many alcohol-fueled yelling matches only worsened by the unmade upcoming album that loomed over their shoulders. James wasn’t sure how he could make the album to begin with, not while he was walking this tightrope. If he was constantly teetering on the edge, how could he be a productive member of the band? 

   Part of him didn’t want to go. Running away from it all felt cowardly, as though he’s weak for not being able to handle what once was so normal. A few drinks at the bar with friends turned into something else, something monumental. Gigs, rehearsals, afterparties, bar to bar to bar to bar. People who once gave him comfort now only serve as reminders of how he has ended up. 

  His PA booked his flight and had his truck sent to meet him at the airport. His intentions were clear– he would spend a few months working on the ranch away from anything that might tempt him, and then he would return home in autumn and attempt to clean up the mess he had left behind. The mess in question haunted him on his flight, tension aching behind his eyes as he rubbed at them. Divorce papers. A band that might hate him, left hanging and waiting for him to get his shit together so that they can release another album. Loose ends, after loose ends. Mouth set in a straight line, he realises he’s clenching his fists, blunt nails pressing into his palms. 

   Settling in was fairly easy. There was only one suitcase to unpack, clothes folded neatly into the dresser and notebook placed haphazardly on the nightstand– blank paged and unopened. For a few days it was only him in the lodging house, resting and rising in silence, eating a bowl of cereal by the kitchen window before heading out to work on the ranch with Wayne, the owner’s husband. Wayne is a shorter man, or at least much shorter than James, with salt and pepper hair he keeps hidden beneath a straw hat, and a laugh that often turns into a smoker’s cough if your joke is good enough. Wayne is friendly and a hard-worker, unafraid to put James to work too. 

   A few days later, a couple more lodgers began filtering in, two men who based on their accents, come from the south. They didn't spare James a second glance, and James gratefully did the same in return. There was no need for making friends.

   When you arrived it shook up his routine. He now had to wait for his morning showers, entering only after you had spent far longer than he would’ve liked, only to be met with fogged up mirrors and the scent of vanilla and jasmine. He could hear music playing gently through the thin walls, some shit from the 70s that he wasn’t into, and he’d have to put up with the way you’d softly hum along. Truthfully, he avoided bumping into you at all costs. There was no concern of seeing you at breakfast or dinner– he skipped them in favour of some cheap crappy microwave meal– and he worked more on the ranch with Wayne while you settled into tending the vegetable garden. 

   Avoiding you seemed like a waste of time, however, because you didn’t notice him anyway. You always seemed too lost in your own head, focussed entirely on pulling weeds to notice him walking back and forth by you, carrying bags of feed. He didn’t offer a greeting, or even his name, but then again neither did you, and he was more than happy to keep his distance. 

   Your name only came up one day as James was sitting with Wayne. They’d both spent hours of the morning tending to the stables in the intense heat, James doing most of the heavy-lifting, and took refuge under the shade of a large tree. After collecting a few random chopped logs and sticks, James took out his pocketknife and began carving. Wayne spoke of plans to make his wife a wooden sculpture of a cactus for their front porch, with James silently shucking away at the wood to bring it to a sharp point. 

   In the distance you’re harvesting crops from the vegetable garden, wearing denim cutoffs and a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. From here James thinks he can spot the image of Garfield printed on the front. He stares for longer than he should, eyes trailing down the expanse of your bare legs, and admittedly, over your behind when you turn and lean down to grab a shovel. 

   Wayne breaks through the intensity of his gaze by saying a name, the glass shattering when James averts his eyes and returns to sharpening the wooden shiv with care. His finger slips against the grain and he winces, plucking the splinter from his thumb, “That girl. She’s here from Seattle.” 

   He remains silent, lip twitching with a hint of annoyance at the older man’s intrusion. Yet he lets your name settle in his mouth, silently testing the way it feels on his tongue. Aware that he was caught, he keeps his eyes trained intensely on his craft to avoid Wayne’s gaze. 

   “Pretty, ain’t she?” Wayne muses, stripping bark from an ash log and looking at you in the distance as you pick weeds from the cauliflower beds, “We don’t usually get people like her out here,” he turns to James, simpering, “Don’t usually get rockstars ‘neither.” 

  He turns away to continue stripping the log and James uses the moment to steal another look at you. The sun beats down on your back and you wipe sweat from your brow with your bare forearm, pushing a few loose hairs back that had fallen from your ponytail. There’s a half empty sack of compost on the ground by your feet that stains the tips of your gloved hands. You look tired, standing back from the garden bed to study your handiwork before tilting your head all the way back to soak up the sun, hands on your hips. When you turn and glance in James’ direction, squinting your eyes through the heat mirage, he averts his gaze, once again all too aware of Wayne and the way the man lifts his hand to wave dramatically at you. 

   He doesn’t look up to see if you wave back. 

   He sees you again that late afternoon, in the same way he always sees you— in small vignettes, in short scenes that make him think momentarily that you might just be a figment of his imagination. He sees you walking past him with a crate full of lettuce, too focused on not dropping any from the heaped pile to pay him any notice. He sees you when he walks by the wire fence, where you’re being walked through the steps of feeding the chickens in the coop. He sees you now, entering the same house he’s staying in, the same one he’s walking to, only a few paces behind. 

   But still, you seem to pay him no mind, as if he’s a ghost. He thinks he might be one if it weren’t for the acknowledgment of Wayne and his wife, Marie. The other workers don’t much like him, interpreting his silence as him being a stuck up rockstar. He wonders if it’s for any reason that you don’t notice him. Does he skulk around too quietly? Sure, he’s not been the most conversational since he’s been here, but he’s sure you would’ve at least noticed him.

   It really bugs him. 

   For a man whose profession is to be seen and to be heard, he typically really likes fading into the shadows in his everyday life. There had been too many days of butting heads with Lars, too many arguments with his ex, too many paparazzi, too many expectations of him. He was only one man, and he knew he was too fucked up to be a role model for anyones kids. Before he entered rehab, he enjoyed the anonymity of a small town bar and the way no one knew who he was there. If they did, they didn’t care, clinking pints with him over the bar as if he was just another one of them. And even though Wayne and Marie do talk to him and put him to work, they still treat him like all the others staying on the farm for the season. And he does enjoy the fact that Wayne and Marie seem to pay him no mind, as well as the other workers. 

   But when he really thinks about it, he doesn’t like slipping into the shadows as much as he thought he did. Perhaps it’s his ego talking, but he at least likes being acknowledged. 

  It was as if you didn’t even know he was there. 

  It bugs him as he opens the door behind you after you’d let it close, watching you saunter down the hall and into the room only a door away from his own, not offering a glance as you shut it behind you. It bugs him as he makes his way into his own room, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing his hands over his tired face. It bugs him even more when he hears your door open and close again, squeaking on its hinges, followed by the click of the bathroom door and the rush of the shower turning on. 

   You claimed the shower before he could, as you always seem to do. Only today he had worked hard, back sore and legs aching with strain. Annoyance twitches at his lip but he tries to brush it off, taking deep breaths, groaning lowly as he lays back onto the bed. The day's work sits heavily in his bones and he shifts uncomfortably. He feels grimy, a layer of sweat having dried on his skin, sticking the Arizona desert sand to the hairs on his arms. He grimaces and tries to brush some off.

   Minutes pass while he waits for you to finish in the bathroom, then more, and after thirty minutes he’s grown more and more impatient with you, rising from the bed and storming into the hallway. He doesn’t take any time to notice that the shower has stopped running, the blood rushing too loudly through his ears, and as he’s about to aggressively rap his knuckles against the door, it swings open. You jump back with a start when you see him, his fist raised and face twisted in irritation. 

   Momentarily, he’s stunned, face contorting into an expression that matches your own as his eyes trail over your form– wet hair against your shoulders and fresh skin dewey with what he assumes is lotion. You’re gripping your towel tightly in one hand, the other clutching a toiletry bag. 

   As he lowers his hand, he realises that this is the first time you’re noticing his existence. Wide eyes glimmer up at him shyly, lips parted from the shock of opening the door to a man standing angrily directly on the other side. 

   With that realisation comes another—actually, two realisations that took him possibly too long to register– the fact that you’re almost naked, and he’s blocking your way out of the bathroom. Embarrassment nips viciously at the back of his neck, tinting the tips of his ears pink as he takes a step back. 

  James has never been good with embarrassment. His ego always gets in the way or gets him into trouble. Sure, it has won him many arguments, much to the chagrin of his opponents, but it has also gained him the title of an egotistical asshole to many people. Whenever James becomes embarrassed, the outcome is always the same– confrontational, cruel, unnecessary words he doesn’t really intend to say bubble up in his throat before he has any chance to stop them. 

   “Knowing that there’s only one bathroom, you should be more aware of how fucking long you take.” 

   He snaps his mouth shut the second the words are out, lips pressing together in a firm line. You raise your eyebrows at him, taken aback at the gruff rudeness of his tone. 

   You want to say something. Some witty comeback or even something to match his hostility, but your tongue struggles to find any words. Words have never come easily to you in the first place, always choosing to be quiet unless you’re around people you know, but they especially don’t come when you’re half naked and an angry, 6’1” man is towering over you. 

   All you can muster is a small, “I’m sorry.” as you push past him and retreat to your room. 

  James is paralysed in his spot, the increasingly familiar scent of vanilla and jasmine wafting over him from the bathroom as you walk away, listening to the door slam behind you. He’s not sure how long he stays standing in place, fists clenched at his sides with frustration directed at both you and himself. With a defeated sigh, he locks himself into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Once he’s stepped in he wastes no time in pressing his forehead against the cool tile, cursing himself for not being able to hold his tongue. 

   James really wants to spend the evening the same way he’d been doing, skipping dinner and smoking a cigar out on the front steps, but Marie had taken notice and when she bumped into him earlier in the day, had all but forced him into promising to come to dinner tonight. It didn’t sound appealing at all. It felt like fucking summer camp, having to sit around a big table with everyone staying at the ranch and talk about your day and the work everyones’ been doing. He’d quite honestly rather starve. 

   It didn’t help that he assumed you would be there. 

   He had made up his mind that he disliked you. The annoyance of  the way you’d practically ignored him for a week seems to only have increased with the duration of your shower. It was like you had no consideration for anyone else and didn’t look past the tip of your nose. He didn’t want to eat at the same table as you for that reason, is what he told himself. Not because he saw you in your towel and was so unnecessarily rude to you, no– James doesn’t do embarrassed. 

   He’s taken a nap directly after his shower, waking up even groggier and in an even worse mood, throwing on clean clothes and making his way down to the main house where Marie would be making dinner. The front door is already open when he gets there, and he takes an already exasperated breath before entering, 

   The smell that meets him is already mouthwatering, as much as he hates to admit it, and for a moment it makes him question why he’d skipped out on dinner for the past week. Wayne greets him as he walks in, already sitting around a large wooden table with a few men he recognises from around the ranch. Wayne has a cigar attached to his mouth, bobbing as he talks. 

   “James!” He exclaims, raising his hands in the air to greet him warmly, “Come on in, you should meet my guys.” 

   James nods curtly, having already met them in passing and discovered they didn’t much like him. But he puts up with it for Wayne’s sake, standing over the table but not sitting down, nodding in acknowledgment as he introduces everybody. They seem nice enough, greeting him with smiles, apart from two men at the end of the table who don’t so much as return James’ nod. They’re Dylan and Wes, the other two lodgers in the house. They offer him forced smiles, but James can see that the second Wayne turns his head to speak to someone else, they narrow their eyes in his direction. For a moment he wonders if you’d met them– if they treated you in the same way or if you hadn’t even noticed them in the same way you did him. 

   With that thought, Marie comes bounding in, wielding a wooden spoon in one hand, “James!” she grins, “I’m so pleased you came,” 

   She diverts her attention to Wayne, smacking him on the shoulder with the wooden spoon and scolding him in Spanish. The cigar between the man’s lips threatens to fall, but miraculously remains sturdy as he says something back, a sheepish expression on his face. 

   Marie rolls her eyes and turns back to James, “You, help me in the kitchen because my bum of a husband apparently has better things to do.” 

   Any other time James may have cringed at the idea– he’s not the best chef– but now, as he turns to glance at Dylan and Wes who stare at him with a look of contempt, he takes the out and follows Marie into the kitchen. 

   The moment he enters, his eyes land on you where you stand chopping vegetables at the butcher’s block island. You’re not looking at him yet, too focussed on dicing a tomato, and he takes a second to look at you. Your hair has dried, thrown back into a ponytail while you’re cooking, and you wear a white cotton sundress with thin straps that contrast against your skin. It’s different to how he’s seen you dressed, in denim cut-offs and cowboy boots, and for a moment he’s halted in the doorway to watch you. 

   “Could you shuck this corn?” Marie asks James, and your eyes finally snap up to look at him, trailing over his attire before you quickly go back to chopping. 

   He clears his throat with a small sure, taking his place across from you at the butcher’s block. You don’t dare to look up at him again, hoping that he doesn’t see the blush that tints the tops of your cheeks. 

   “You’re both very quiet, you know that?” Marie laughs, stirring a pot both metaphorically and literally, “Come on! Talk to each other.” 

   A short silence follows, painful and uncomfortable and it makes your skin crawl, clearing your throat and daring to glance at James. You break the silence by offering your name, extending some sort of peace offering.

   He doesn’t seem to extend the olive branch in return. uttering a gruff, “James,” as he shucks another ear of corn. 

   You nod, You’d hoped that he’d say more to make you feel less nervous, hands shaking slightly as you hold the knife. You knew his name already– Marie had told you a few days ago when she caught you staring at him while he repaired the broken gate near the stables– shirtless.  He had been sweating, lugging planks of wood from the shed on the other side of the lot, tattoos and bare skin glowing. Marie had snorted at your pink cheeks and made a smart comment about how he could fix your gate– whatever that meant. You’d been stealing glances at him since, averting your gaze quickly whenever he would begin to turn his head.

  You soon became aware of his dislike for you, and other than the earlier shower incident, you can’t think of why. You tried to stay out of his way as much as possible, which wasn't hard considering he hadn’t showed up to dinners so far, and always kept to himself except for when he was working with Wayne.

   It really bugs you. 

   You sigh when he doesn’t say anything else, glancing at Marie who’s back is to you as she leans over a large pot of stew, hoping that the heat of your gaze might burn just enough for her to turn around and save you. No dice. 

   “I–” You begin, “The gate looks really good.” 

   Instant regret rushes over you as a look of confusion paints his features, brows furrowed. You rush to explain, “The- the one by the stables, I saw you fixing it. It looks really good. I haven’t had to scale the fence to get through since.” 

   You embellish your compliment with a breathy laugh, audibly nervous, cursing yourself at your ability to make things so much worse. He didn’t return the laugh, and in fact, it seems that somehow your compliment had soured his expression even further. 

   “Thanks.” He deadpans, averting his gaze from yours and back to the corn. 

   You sigh, chopping another tomato. 

   Meanwhile James is internally kicking his own ass, unsure of why he can’t be fucking normal, intending to say one thing and actually saying another. He watches you from his place across the counter, the concerned furrow of your brow, pinched in the middle, to your nimble fingers diligently doing what Marie had instructed you to do. He feels a flash of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he misunderstood you. After all, you had noticed him– the gate was proof of that. Maybe he wasn’t as invisible to you as he thought he was. But that still leaves one question unanswered– if you noticed him, why did you intentionally ignore him? It’s silly and it’s childish, but it’s enough for him to continue on with his negative opinion of you.

   Time goes by wordlessly between you both, Marie instead taking the time to explain everything she was doing in detail, sure to send both of you home at the end of the night with the recipe for Birria engraved in your brains. Time passes this way until the table has been set and the food is ready, Marie ushering you both out of the kitchen and to the dining table. 

  The only three empty seats are lumped together, one of which is at Wayne’s side. It would be rude to sit where you know his wife would be sitting, so you take the next one with a small frown, waiting for James to take the one next to you. You’re aware that he’s not happy with the arrangement, and for a moment you wonder if he would take Marie’s chair, but he doesn’t and instead fills the vacant spot on your other side.  The table is tightly packed, and due to James’ frame, he has to keep his shoulders pinched together slightly to avoid rubbing them against yours. It’s nearly insulting, watching the amount of effort the man puts into not touching you, rolling your eyes to yourself as you eat the food Marie (and you and James, but mostly Marie) had prepared. 

   “So…,” 

   The mention of your name has your head snapping up, paused with your fork halfway raised to your mouth to look around at who had said your name. Your eyes fall on Dylan, who’s sat at the table directly across from you. You’d only met him once before and hadn’t really been able to form much of an opinion on him. He’s around your age, maybe a bit younger around twenty-three, with shaggy brown hair he let fall over his blue eyes and a smile that had a tinge of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He had helped you reach a pair of garden shears from the top shelf of the shed, and all you’d talked about within that span of two minutes was your names and where you were from. 

   “Hm?” You hum in acknowledgment.

   “You mentioned you’d stayed in Europe for a while, what was that like?” 

   You recognise the invitation of small talk, and you’d be thankful for it if it were just the two of you, but as everyone’s eyes settle on you for your response, you feel a little put on the spot. 

   “Uh, yeah, it was really cool,” you swallow, “Beautiful architecture.” 

   It’s a lame comment, and you're aware of it, but you're not sure of what else to say at the moment. Dylan nods slowly, eying you up and down in a way that makes you squirm nervously. 

   Wayne comes to your rescue, “James, have you been to Europe? I imagine y’have.” 

   The man beside you freezes, and he’s close enough that you can feel the tension, shifting in his chair. His bicep rubs against yours for the first time and you inhale quietly.

  “Yeah,” he sniffs, “Been a few times.” 

  “You been there on tour, I imagine?” 

  This piques your interest, eyes flitting to look at James profile. His jaw is clenched as he nods, “That’s correct.” 

   “On tour?” You ask. 

  He turns to you, and the intensity of his eyes this close up almost makes you regret asking. He nods, “My band tours here and there.” 

   “Ha! Understatement,” Wes snorts from across the table, southern accent strong through his laugh, “Mr. Big Shot over here has toured a whole lot more than just ‘here n’ there.”  

   He holds his fingers up in air quotes to emphasise his words, and you’re left confused. Mr. Big Shot? You thought James looked slightly familiar, but couldn’t place from where, so you’d just brushed it off as nothing. You turn to look at him again, studying his face and racking your brain to think of where you might have seen him before. It would make sense for him to be in a famous band, but which one? And why would someone in said famous band be out here in the middle of nowhere? 

   “What band?” You ask, ignoring Wes. 

   James looks uncomfortable, “Uh, Metallica.” 

   It’s as if bells go off in your head, piecing it all together and finally realising where you've seen him before. It wasn’t just one place you’d seen his face, but many. He’d been everywhere, on MTV, on the front covers of magazines on the newsstands back home, on billboards– dare you say Wes wasn’t too far off by calling him a Big Shot. 

   “Oh,” is all that comes out despite the revelation– despite the fact that you’re now painfully  aware of how famous he is. Your pre-existing nerves have only worsened with this newfound information, struggling to get a bite of your food down, wincing. 

   James, however, takes your lack of response and pained expression the wrong way and gets on the defensive, scoffing into his glass of water before slamming it down. The entire table goes quiet, and he doesn’t miss the way you flinch at his action, momentarily pausing to meet your gaze. Your eyes are wide as they lock with his, confusion written all over your face.

   He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up, “If you’ll excuse me.” 

   You watch his back as he retreats through the front door, letting it slam behind him. You flinch again and turn to look at Marie, who’s sitting next to her husband with a distraught look on her face. Sighing, you stand up and place your napkin on the table.

   “Dinner was absolutely wonderful, Marie, please excuse me.” 

   Marie flashes you a sympathetic glance as you walk to the door, and despite their chittering you don’t care to look at the expressions worn by Dylan and Wes. Instead, you make your way out of the house and down the front steps. The evening has finally matured into darkness, the pathway to the lodge lit only by lamp posts and strings of fairy lights that Marie had just put up earlier today. You’re not sure where to look for James, or even if you should be looking in the first place. If you truly are the cause of his bad mood, surely you’d be the last person able to talk some sense into him; but curiosity eats away at you, the need to fix whatever you’ve done gnawing at your stomach.

   It doesn't take too long to find him, sitting on the front steps of the lodge, mostly shrouded in shadows except for the orange cast of the fairy lights. 

   “Hey,” you offer carefully, slowing your pace as you near him. 

   You debate whether or not to sit next to him on the stairs, thinking it might piss him off if you do, but awkwardly rocking on your heels feels even worse. You take a seat next to him with a light huff, making sure to keep your arms from brushing against his like at the dinner table. He’s smoking a cigar, the burning tobacco lighting up his face ever so slightly on each inhale. Though he doesn’t verbally acknowledge your greeting, he doesn't leave either. As if he’s waiting for you to say something worth his while. 

   “I’m sorry, you know,” you offer softly, “I’m not quite sure what I did to upset you, but whatever it was, I’m sorry.” 

   He remains quiet, the sounds of the crickets and cicadas deafening. You exhale a sigh of defeat, tilting your head up to glance at the vast array of stars in the clear sky, counting the brightest stars until you lose your place. 

   James isn’t quite sure what to say. The longer he’s left to sit with his thoughts, the more he doesn’t understand what you’ve done to bug him so much. There’s been an explanation for every misunderstanding so far, leaving no reasons for his disdain, yet for some reason he just feels immensely frustrated by you. It’s something he feels under his skin, fizzing in his blood uncomfortably. He’s starting to wonder if it’s even got anything to do with you to begin with, or if this entire trip out to the desert has backfired and he’s got too much time and space to think about his life. Stress eats away at him, bubbling up slowly. 

   “I’m sorry about hogging the shower,” you ramble, “I didn’t realise you were waiting for it and I just got kinda…kinda lost in thought, I’ll hurry up next time.” 

   Nothing. It’s radio silence on his end, the air so thick that you feel it clouding your lungs along with the smoke from his cigar. You can’t stop your mouth from running, ”And it’s really cool that you’re in Metallica, I um, I don’t really know much about you guys but-”

   “You can stop,” he interrupts, the stress bubbling over, your face flaring with heat you’re glad he can’t see in the lighting. ”I don’t really care, honestly.” 

   He looks at you for the first time in the last five minutes, emotions flat and guarded, and for the first time since you’d met him, you feel your own anger rise up in your stomach instead of nerves– frustration, annoyance, fatigued with his attitude. 

   “Look,” you stand up, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’d appreciate it if you'd stop being a total dick.” 

   He puts out his cigar, standing up to tower over you, not letting you have the upperhand of being taller than him. He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. 

   “All day, you’ve been awful to me, and we just met. I don’t get it, what’s your problem?” 

   He scoffs, “I have a whole fuckin’ list of problems, sweetheart, don’t feel special.” 

   You stare, dumbfounded, arms crossed over your chest, “Yeah? And what about it?” you challenge, eyes narrowed, “Why do you think I’m here, huh? We’ve all got our shit, we’ve all got things we’re running away from, what makes you think you can treat me like shit for no reason? Because if this is how it’s going to be all summer then I’m already real fucking tired of it.” 

   Cicadas are the only thing you receieve in return, the chirping filling the empty space between you and James. There’s nothing. There’s no apology to speak of, not even any retaliation. His face is void of emotion, hands dug into his pockets as he stands and stares. 

   His stare is intense and unmoving, but there’s something hidden behind it. It’s almost a sort of hollowness, as if this is something he’s been through a billion times before. It almost makes you falter, trying your hardest to search his eyes for any clues as to what he may be thinking. But his eyes are still those of a stranger’s, and you can’t place exactly what it is that he’s thinking. Shaking your head, you finally back down, taking a step back. 

   “I came here to apologise, and I did. I have nothing else to say,” you turn to the lodge and step towards the stairs, “But Marie didn’t deserve that shit you pulled tonight. I think she at least deserves an apology.” 

   The words hang between you in the night, heavy and oppressive. There’s a moment where your fingertips hesitate over the doorknob, casting one last look in James’ direction in hopes that he would say something. But he’s remained stoic, gaze set hard towards where you’re standing, hands shoved into his pockets. Shaking your head again, you step inside, leaving him in the dark. 

   Only when you’re gone does he rub his hands over his face and swear under his breath. With a sigh that holds the weight of the world, he takes begrudging steps back towards Marie and Wayne’s house. 

★

A/N: god pls bear with how slow and badly written this felt. anyways i hope you enjoyed jsdhgkjshdkjhgsdjg

#james hetfield x reader #james hetfield #metallica #metallica x reader #reader #x reader #fic #metallica fanfiction #i was supposed to be writing an essay #i did this instead #anyways stream marty robbins gunfighter ballads and trail songs

[penguinkyun]

chapter 150 review

*laughs* oh this chapter. this is the day ive been waiting for since 123 dropped last year. folks its finally over. but before that lets review: augh aqua looks so tiny in the first panel....standing with bloodsoaked pants. man. he can't ever escape that hallway huh. him and goro being stuck in that same hallway from over ten years ago, still drenched in blood is so....auhg. i am so happy we're finally getting back into aquas head after *checks notes* 31 chapters of no longer being in his head! and i really love the conversation between the two of them too! it establishes a lot of what i've been thinking of how aqua views his reincarnation vs how ruby views it i.e. she is continuing her life as sarina unbroken but aqua....is a wholly different person! a year is enough time to change a person let alone almost twenty years! and how goro refers to himself as a faint wound is also quite interesting because as we've seen in c.65 and c.95, goro is used almost exclusively as aqua's vehicle of self hatred, constantly telling him he has no right to be happy or that he deserves to live unless ai's murderer is dead (put a pin in that point). goro is wound that aqua has not allowed to heal and it festers until he does. AND FINALLY. WE ARE FREE. we've never really seen aqua's viewpoint of the whole Incest Debacle apart from the very very uncomfortable faces he makes when ruby is chasing after him and that's because the very instant we get back into aqua's head he instantly shuts down any notion of it ever happening. it really is just ruby seeing the illusion of goro amamiya in him and aqua is no longer that person. anyways speaking of c.95, goro giving up here is very....eh. sure seeing sarina happy must've triggered some rethinking because she was also a major part of his guilt but. its always been centred around ai! ai's murder is the reason goro can't let go, because he was never able to fulfill his promise to protect her. avenging ai is always the driving force of whenever we see phantoms of goro in aquas head! honestly this is part of like. the story largely removing ai as a driving force in the twins lives - from decentering her involvement in their reincarnation to excising her from goro and aqua's central motivation for vengeance. but as i say that, goro has always been a vehicle for aqua's self hatred when it comes to his revenge. he is exclusively shown as a restraint on aqua gaining any sort of happiness and all his self hatred given form. but the phantom that is actually his desire for revenge, pure and unfiltered is:

and we haven't seen aqua confront him yet have we? *laughs nervously* also goro acting like an elder brother to aqua and teasing him about his crush on kana is hilarious lmfao. and handing him the knife. ha. anyways kana is so funny here. girl does not acknowledge akane as her rival in any major sense. akane is crying somehwere in the background (for legal reasons this is a joke). anyways kana slowly working up the courage to finally confess to aqua is so beautiful because she has incredibly low self esteem and to see her hope in this? after reminiscing on all her moments with aqua is really sweet. honestly a lot of aqkn romantic moments feel overdramatic on kana's end but this was. just really sweet really. it reminds of the moment in sweet today where she just glances aqua's way before the camera comes on. actually this chapter itself gives me a lot of the early onk vibes in how its written which is quite different from the tone of the movie arc which swung between comedy and almost horror. i will say i like that both aqkn think of their more normal moments in between all the dramatic ones. and god that panel of kana. shes so beautiful. i am so scared. because there is no way aqua will accept, since she is still an idol, kamiki is somewhere in the background and. well baby aqua hasn't shown up yet has he?

either way the knife is in aqua's hands now. its his choice if he wants to turn it on himself or throw it away.

break next week!

#oshi no ko #oshi no ko manga spoilers #chapter review #speed typed this bc all my thoughts came back after reading the official tl

[spadecentral]

⛈ Rain Rots the Smell | Deuce Spade x Reader

>> requested: no >> a/n: this was for @twistedchatterbox's collab; also this thing has 2.4k words?!??! jesus i've never written this much before...

>> masterlist: here!! >> summary: you take care of a sick deuce >> reader prns: they/them (called captain) >> warning(s): chicken noodle soup; storms; possible ooc deuce

Running through the flower fields with Deuce during sunset, you had no care in the world. To be quite frank, if you were going to die at any point in your life, you would have to choose this time. You were so unbelievably happy and if your last moments were going to be laughing with your boyfriend, you would rather be nowhere else. Falling down on the blades of grass, you tripped the blue-haired boy, making him fall right on top of you.

“Deuce!” you exclaimed, still laughing.

In a teasing manner, Deuce decided to joke around with you. “Hm… where did my partner go? I could have sworn they were here a second ago…”

“Deuce!” you giggled, knowing that he was teasing. You pounded lightly on his shoulders, hoping that he would stop. “I’m right here!”

“I can’t see them anywhere,” Deuce brought a hand up to his face, using it to shade his eyes while he pretended to search for you. Finally deciding to look down, he gave a surprised look when his eyes laid upon you. “Oh, there you are! Where have you been?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, dummy.” you rolled the blue-haired boy off of your chest, forcing him to lay in the grass.

“Ewww I’m gonna get grass stains,” Deuce whines as he starts to sit up. “It's gonna be such a pain to get out…”

“Oh shush, you were raised by one of the greatest women ever,” you roll your eyes. “She has every trick in the book. You know how to get freaking cement out of your hair because of your mom.”

“It wasn’t cement,” Deuce sighs.

“Super glue is close enough to cement, dear.”

“So if I glue my hand with your hand… we’ll be stuck together by cement?”

You flushed almost immediately, as you weren’t expecting Deuce to flirt with you. “J… just focus on the flowers, Juice.”

“Augh, Juice. That really stings, babe.” Deuce puts a hand over his heart in mock pain. “I can’t believe you used an insult from Ace.”

“...I can’t believe it either.” you responded, a little stunned. You suppose you’ve just been around both Ace and Deuce for so long that unfortunately, you had picked up on some of the insults that the both of them used. “Deuce, slap me.”

“Excuse me?” Deuce looked stunned by what you asked of him.

“I’m obviously not in my right mind if I’m using Ace’s insults,” you reasoned. “So, slap me.”

“What if instead I…” Deuce lifted his hand and you braced for an impact. But instead of feeling a burning sensation, you felt Deuce’s hand caress your cheek.

“Wha–” your eyes opened for only a second before you felt Deuce’s lips press softly against yours.

Sinking into the kiss, you knew he could taste your chapstick. An odd one, green jelly bean was probably not a flavor he expected to be on his lips. Oh well, you thought. Living while in this kiss is more important than worrying about the taste of my chapstick. And you did. It was like your senses were heightened. You could feel each blade of grass, how it was woven and how tall it was. You could feel the gentle breeze hitting both you and Deuce. You could smell the wind. But most importantly, you could feel him. You could feel each and every divot in his lips, you knew where he bit them and you knew where they were split open. You could feel the stickiness of his tinted chapstick that slightly glued your lips together. You could feel the calluses on his hand, and you could smell his hand lotion. Oh Deuce… he was always the best boyfriend he could be. And you love him for just trying.

As your lips parted, you could see a smirk coming across his face. In an attempt to stop Deuce from saying anything, you pounced on him, making him fall over into the flowers behind him. “You could have warned me, dummy!”

“Mmm…” he pretended to think. “Nahhh.”

“Maybe as punishment I’ll lay right here on top of you all evening,” you pouted. Turning over, you rested your head on his stomach.

“Augh, I’ve been defeated by my own partner.” Deuce laughs, reaching his hands up to the sky as if he’s dying in a really dramatic play. “Blood, guts, aaaaand death.”

“You stupid boy,” you giggle.

“Yeah, but I’m your stupid boy.”

“I suppose that’s true,” you sighed.

“Suppose? You suppose?!” Deuce sits up, making you sit up too. “You only suppose? Oh I’m gonna get you–”

“Oh shit.”

Immediately getting up, you started sprinting away from him. You knew he was going to tackle you. You just knew it.

“Get back here, babe!” Deuce called out. You could tell he was catching up to you. “I’ll make sure you’ll never say ‘I suppose’ again!”

Laying down in the grass, you and Deuce decided to stargaze. You still had kiss marks all over your face from Deuce’s tackle. He had kissed you all over your face, and he hasn’t learned where to purchase non-tinted chapstick yet. But you can’t bother to get him some, as you love the lip marks that stay all over your face and stain your cheeks.

“Deuce look at that one!” you pointed up at a blue-colored star.

“Oh yeah! That looks so cool!” Deuce’s voice was comforting. Calm yet excited. Perfect. “Look over there! Was there supposed to be a meteor shower tonight?”

“Huh, I dunno actually.” you shrugged. Closing your eyes, you snuggled into the warmth of your boyfriend. You could feel the breeze from Deuce putting his jacket over you, giving you an extra layer to trap your body heat.

Rain. Rain woke you up. Your clothes were safe, at least, safer than Deuces. He was fully drenched, standing up and pulling on your hand. You, still half-asleep, had no clue what was going on. “Deuce? What’s going on?”

“Rain!” he responded, running back to his blastcycle. “I didn’t know it was going to rain today!”

Hopping onto his blastcycle, Deuce pulled your wrist in an attempt to get you to swing on as well. Instantly getting the memo, you got on. “Go, go, go!!”

“I’m trying,” he responded, rushed. Revving up his blastcycle, he pressed on the gas as fast as possible without potentially sliding and getting into a crash.

Your arms wrapped around Deuce’s torso, all you could think about was how sick the both of you were going to be the next day.

The next morning was an ugly one. The clouds were still gray and the air was damp. Your vision was cloudy and your chest was heavy. Rubbing your eyes, you could see Deuce right next to you with his arm draped over your torso. Struggling, you sat up and as gently as you could, you pushed Deuce’s arm off of you. Unfortunately, your efforts went to waste when you heard him groan.

“Babe?” his raspy voice was muffled from his stuffed nose. Coughing once, he raised a hand to his head. “Eugh… I feel like shit.”

“I’ll go get the thermometer,” you say, standing up. “Ah! It’s cold as hell out here…”

You could hear him laughing at your outburst.

“Oh shush,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

Stepping out of your bedroom, you walk down the hall and into the bathroom. The air hit you like a sac of potatoes, and goosebumps covered your skin. The medicine cabinet creaked as you opened it and grabbed the thermometer for your boyfriend, before walking back into your room. “Alright just stay still.”

The beep sounded as the thermometer turned on. Holding it up to his forehead, the thermometer read 101.2° F (38.6° C). “Oooookay… well you’re sick as fuck.”

You pushed Deuce’s upright body back onto the pillows. “Get some rest and I’ll make you some soup.”

“The way mom makes it?” Deuce’s voice was weak; you could tell he was falling back asleep.

“I’ll ask her for the recipe,” you smiled at him before you kissed his forehead. “Now sleep.”

You closed the door to the room after grabbing your phone and a robe. No way in hell were you going to walk out of that room for more than 30 seconds without something warm. Opening your phone, you pressed on Deuce’s mom’s contact and prayed she was awake and wouldn’t hate you for calling her.

“Hello?” you heard the sweet voice of your boyfriend’s mother as she picked up your call.

“Hi, Ms. Spade,” your voice wavers for a second. “I was wondering if I could have the recipe to your chicken soup? Deuce is uhm, sick.”

“Oh, of course dear! Give me just a…” you could hear movement from her end of the line and you took that opportunity to grab a pencil and pad o paper. “Here we go. Are you ready to write it down?”

“Yup!”

“Thank you so much, Ms. Spade!” 

“You’re very welcome.” she responds. “Make sure he gets enough sleep, and if you could, putting a cold washcloth on his forehead helps him out a lot when sick.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smile. “I’ll get to cooking now, thank you again.”

“Don’t worry about it. Bye bye, now!”

“Bye, Ms. Spade!” you hang up the call before washing your hands. “Time to get cooking, I guess.”

The aroma of the chicken noodle soup filled the kitchen. Your mouth fell victim to the smell as it started to water. Sighing, you caved and sipped some of the soup from the ladle. Shit, you thought. This is really good. Like really good. You now understood why Deuce asked for his mother’s recipe specifically.

Grabbing a bowl, you turned off the stove before scooping some of the soup into the bowl. You decided that you weren’t going to get deuce a normal porcelain bowl today. He had bought some themed plastic bowls a while ago while on a trip, and you decided that it would be a good day to use them because if he accidentally dropped it the bowl wouldn’t break. Pulling a tray from a cabinet, you placed the bowl of soup and a spoon on it. You put a kettle of water on the stove and set up a mug with a tea packet so that you could easily come back and it would be ready to go.

Picking up the tray, you walked to your room and pushed open the door.

“Deuce…” you spoke softly. “Wake up, now. I made your mom’s soup.”

You heard a sniff from the covers as Deuce sat up. His eyes were groggy and he looked cold. “Smells good.”

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells to you,” you smile as you set the tray down on his lap. “I’ll be back, I have to grab your tea.”

Rushing to the kitchen, you grabbed the screaming kettle off of the stove and poured the water into the cup before adding some honey and stirring it. You then grabbed yourself a bowl and poured some soup into it for yourself. Walking back to your bedroom, you walked through the door before closing it.

“Here’s your tea,” you set the cup down on the tray with a soft clack.

“Thank you so much, babe.” he smiled. “C’mere so I can give you a kiss.”

“Oh no way in hell,” you backed up. “I’m not gonna let you get me sick.”

“Aww why?” he pouted. Being sick seemed to make him more expressionate. “We could be sick buddies together…”

“Nuh-uh.” you shake your head, sitting down on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. “If you got me sick, who would take care of me?”

“I would?”

You internally smacked your forehead, “And who would take care of you?”

“...You would?”

“But how could I do that if I was sick?”

“...” Deuce sat in silence for a moment, thinking. “...Good point.”

“Thank you,” you said, triumphant.

Eating in silence, you smiled. Even though he was sick, he was still good company.

“Is there honey in this?” Deuce asked after taking a sip of his tea.

“Deuce…” you sighed. “Drink your tea.”

“You know I don’t like honey that much.”

“It’ll help your throat,” you shake your head. “Drink it and I’ll get you some ice cream.”

“The rocky road one?” 

“Yeah, the rocky road one,” you decided that bargaining with Deuce when he was sick was like bargaining with a seven year old.

He sighed, “Fine.”

You watched as he downed the cup of tea and was probably ignoring it burning his throat. “Done.”

You giggled as he slammed the cup down and burped. “Alright Mr. Tea-Downer! I will go get your ice cream! Continue eating your soup.”

“Aye captain!” Deuce did a little salute as he started eating his soup once again.

Shaking your head, you got up and went out of the bedroom. Your bowl clattered in the sink as you put it in, making your head ring. Opening the freezer, you dug around for a moment before finding the tub of ice cream. Searching for the scooper, you finally found it and scooped out some of the ice cream before placing it into a bowl. Grabbing yet another spoon, you make your way to the bedroom for the fourth time that day.

“This is the last time I’m getting up.” you declareed as you walk into the room.

All you got in response is a chuckle from him. “Alright, babe. Now, ice cream.”

You stopped in your tracks and in your mind you compared him to that one cute angry kaomoji. You giggle thinking about it, before handing him the bowl.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh nothing,” you smile before getting into your side of the bed.

“C’mon, tell me,” he prodded, poking your side.

“Fine, fine.” you held up your hands in surrender. “Just before, when you said ‘now, ice cream’ or whatever, you looked like that one cute kaomoji that I use when I’m mock-mad at you. You know?”

“The one with the little curls as fists?” he inquired.

“Yup!”

“Aww you think I’m cute,” he teased.

“Oh shush and eat your ice cream,” you cross your arms and puff your cheeks.

“Of course, love.” he said as he picked up the spoon.

>> deuce taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @ghost-hyacinth | @oseathepebble | @ventisaircurrent | @epelys | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @ze-maki-nin | @booming-spam | @flqyd-is-lost | @queerlordsimon | @kyraxiyn | @rayisalive send in an ask to be put on the taglist

#twstnexus #deuce spade #twst deuce #deuce x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce #deuce twisted wonderland #twst deuce spade x reader #twst deuce spade #deuce spade x you #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #@.twst.works

[misc-obeyme]

Could you do a mc who has dyslexic and tell the brothers (and the in dateables please)

Hi there, anon, thank you for the request!

I don't have dyslexia, but I hope I managed to do all right with this. I did some research and tried to include different symptoms and strengths.

Please let me know if there's anything problematic about what I've written.

GN!MC has dyslexia and tells the brothers and dateables about it.

Warnings: MC has dyslexia. Mentions of negative self talk.

Lucifer

You have what? He's never heard of this. You have to explain to him what it means.

Ah, okay, will you be needing accommodations at RAD for this, MC? He wants you to be successful and he's ready to implement whatever will help you in this.

Wonders why you didn't tell him sooner. Seems genuinely confused by this. Explain you only tell people you trust. Now he's touched that you trust him enough to talk to him about it.

Supports you as much as possible, usually in a quiet subtle way. Occasionally reassures you that you're doing well. If you're the type that loses things, he gathers them for you as he finds them.

Mammon

Gets it right away. If our boy isn't neurodivergent in some way, it's gonna be a surprise to everyone. In that sense, he understands that you're different.

In fact, he may even figure it out before you tell him. But he'll wait for you to bring it up yourself. When you do, he's just like okay, no problem, MC. Doesn't make a big deal out of it. Doesn't treat you any differently.

Notices when you're struggling. If you also have dyscalculia or are otherwise having trouble with numbers, he can help with that. We all know he's good with numbers. Otherwise, he'll do whatever you ask if you need help.

Figures out your strengths, too. If you're good at reading people, he'll start to rely on you to tell whether or not he's being scammed. Runs all his ideas by you because you always have some interesting perspective he hadn't thought of.

Leviathan

Also understands as soon as you tell him. He knows what it's like to be a little different.

He's also good at helping you if you're feeling down about yourself. Levi talks badly about himself all the time, but he hates when you do it. Won't stand for it if you say something about being stupid.

If you want him to, he'll read extensive video game dialog out loud. Starts out normal, but eventually gets overly creative with it. Does different voices and everything. It's hilarious and you both end up laughing most of the time.

Will be paying attention to whether or not you seem like you're struggling with something, especially if you're both consuming some of his favorite media. He wants to be sure you're enjoying yourself, too, MC!

Satan

He knows all about it. Satan has read plenty of books about this very topic. Absolutely recognizes the signs before you tell him. Might try to help you out subtly until you tell him yourself.

Don't worry, MC. He fully understands. Please tell him exactly how it effects you, what specifically you struggle with, if you have any accompanying conditions (for instance, he has read that people with dyslexia often have ADHD as well).

He's you're study buddy. We know that Satan will tutor you as needed, so if you need extra help, he's on it. He's happy to spend time with you, going over whatever you need.

Will absolutely go flying off the handle if anyone ever says anything negative about you. Especially if some jerk of a demon calls you stupid or some variation of that. You can be sure the wrath will take over and he'll be in demon form before you know what's happening.

Asmodeus

Has never heard of this and needs you to explain it to him. Once you do, though, he has a similar reaction to Mammon's. Doesn't make a big deal out of it at all. Just accepts you as you are.

Asmo is always pampering you and this is no exception. Tell him what you need, MC! He's ready to help you with anything.

Won't stand for negative self talk. If you start doing this, he'll start kissing you all over your face to distract you. Tells you you're perfect.

Asmo quickly realizes that you have intensely creative ideas. He consults you all the time on things like what he's wearing, what kind of makeup he should use today, and so on. Your ideas are always unique and more than once he's ended up starting new trends because of your suggestions.

Beelzebub

He's going to need you to explain it to him. He asks you directly how you feel about it and what he can do to help. Tell him everything, MC.

Beel also recognizes your unique way of looking at things. Asks for your opinion on anything and everything. He tends to have a one track mind, especially when it comes to food. Your ability to look at things differently fascinates him.

He sees that you sometimes have trouble with being organized and this can result in sporadic meals. He always makes sure you're eating well. He often asks you to eat with him, that way if you haven't eaten already, you will now.

Always there to support you. Quietly stays by your side, ready to help. Not necessarily asking you about it all the time, but he's just around when you need him. Glares down anyone who dares to say anything negative about it.

Belphegor

Listens quietly as you tell him about it. Hasn't heard of it, so might ask you a lot of questions. Wants to understand this aspect of you.

Belphie is really good at being able to tell when you're overwhelmed. Takes you somewhere quiet so you can decompress. Asks you about how you're feeling so you can release some anxiety.

Similarly, he recognizes that your thoughts may be swirling by the end of the day and tries to do various relaxing activities with you so you can actually sleep. If you struggle with sleep for any reason, he's the right demon to help you with that.

Surprisingly aggressive with anyone who has the audacity to say anything negative to you about it. Gets an ominous black aura, Lucifer-style, and smiles in a terrifying way. Whoever is on the receiving end of this doesn't even have a chance to look at you funny before they are running away as fast as possible.

Diavolo

He's heard of this and now he's excited because humans are so fascinating! Tell him everything about it, please, he wants to learn.

Ah, okay, he gets it. You need some extra help with certain things. He knows how that is, he'd be totally lost without Barbatos around. He's ready to do whatever is needed to help you.

He won't make a big deal out of it, but he finds the little things that make you different really cute. If you misspell words in your D.D.D. messages, it makes him smile. If you randomly come up with some creative idea, he's always excited about it. You're just so cute, MC.

Nobody would dare to say anything bad about you in his presence, but if he hears about rumors or any such things, he will take action. Will not tolerate such things happening at RAD.

Barbatos

Yes, he is familiar with this condition. He asks you many questions, though, as he understands that it can be different for everyone.

Obviously he makes you some special tea blend. He invites you over for tea parties so he can serve it to you. Mixes in your favorite flavors, too. Insists that you need to drink it regularly. This might actually be true, but he also just wants to spend time with you.

Asks for your help with baking a lot, too. Mostly because you come up with some amazing ideas that always turn out to be delicious. Straight up changes some of his recipes due to your suggestions.

Makes sure you're taking good care of yourself. He knows that the brothers are probably on top of it, but he worries about you. He knows you can get disorganized and overwhelmed. Checks in with you regularly.

Simeon

He has no idea what it is so he listens carefully to your explanation. Gently accepting. Doesn't want to push you to tell him too much, but wants to know what you're comfortable talking to him about.

Thoughtful about it. Spends some time just observing how you act in various situations and then adjusts his own behavior accordingly. Due to this, he always knows when you're struggling with something. He's here for you, MC.

Good at redirecting things, talking you through things, or asking you specific questions to figure out what you need. Can sometimes overdo it, acting careful when you're good. Tell him as much and he checks himself immediately. Always asks for your insight on things before proceeding.

Loves cooking with you. Reads the recipes out loud as though reading them to himself, even if you don't really need him to. Fascinated by how you can come up with some seemingly crazy idea just to have it turn out amazing.

Solomon

Figures it out on his own. He's familiar with this condition and he recognizes the symptoms in you right away. Might even drop some hints that he suspects you have it. If you don't confirm it, he won't push. When you finally tell him, he nods knowingly.

Due to you being his apprentice, Solomon takes the time to figure out how to best teach you magic. If you struggle with memorizing things (like spells), he'll work to figure out how to make it easier for you.

Will absolutely spend as much time with you as needed to make sure you get all the help you need while learning from him. Magic is no joke, MC, and he's not about to let you get into anything dangerous because he didn't teach you correctly.

Constantly tells you how proud of you he is. Sees how hard you work. Even if you're quiet about your struggles, he knows about them. He doesn't want you to ever feel like you're not good enough. Reminds you of all the things you've done and everything you can do.

Luke

He's never heard of this, but he gets very serious and listens very carefully when you explain it to him. He's curious about this part of you and will ask you questions about it. You're so interesting, MC!

As with some of the others, Luke recognizes your creativity quickly. He's always asking for your opinion on all kinds of things. Asks you to come over all the time to sample his baking and give him suggestions.

Probably not very good at helping with the things you struggle with. Might try to help you with things you don't need help with. Just tell him you're good and he'll figure it out. Once he does, though, he gets better at helping you out when you actually need it.

Will absolutely yell at anyone he thinks is giving you a hard time. Pulls out some of his sass because he won't stand for it. You might have to calm him down a little.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #request #misc writes