#not to mention that i've been having dreams about him cheating on me like once a week for several months now?????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xoxoladyaz · 11 months

Text

It Hits Different This Time, Part 2

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington

TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.

When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.

“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”

“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”

Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve.”

He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”

He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out.

This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over –

“I’m in rehab.”

Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”

Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes.

Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?

Absolutely yes.)

“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I –

“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy.

“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.

“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”

Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”

“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.

“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”

“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.

“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”

“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”

“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”

“Babe - ”

“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”

“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”

“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”

“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Eddie - ”

“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.

Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.

It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.

I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”

Yeah. And I love him.

And you love him.

“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”

“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.

“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear.

“Really? You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”

“Together.”

“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”

“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”

“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”

“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”

“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.

“Consider it done.”

“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago.

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Tags List: @gregre369 @starman-jpg @skoomy-doompy @thequeenrainacorn @sleepyboosstuff @strawberrykore @paintsplatteredandimperfect @amoris-no-smut-allowed @steve-the-hairrington @iknewyouweremuggle @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sunfloweringstories @loverkasp @hyperfixationgoddess @steddie-as-they-go @zerokrox-blog @messrs-weasley @thelittleclare @lovelyscot

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #robin buckley #platonic stobin #rock star Eddie munson #sweetheart steve harrington

1K notes · View notes

stylesispunk · 3 months

Text

"The not so invisible string" | part 3

not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count:8k>

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, fluff.

a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks to write something, and it was hard because I had no inspiration, so this is probably my worst piece of writing. However, I hope you enjoy it, The next chapter will be better because I have inspo for that one. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 You can always send asks or talk to me whenever you want. Again, sorry for the chapter, i promise the next one will be better 😭

masterlist

dividers by @/saradika

When's the exact point in life when you stop feeling excitement for what's to come? Growing up becomes a deadly fear creeping within your bones because there's no more dreams left for you, but you face the cruel reality of life becoming a cycle, a boring idea of waking up to survive the day instead of living it, when you face that the ideas you grew up with died with the years passing by.

But now, as you approached Joel’s place of work, the familiar rush of butterflies and excitement began to creep back in. You felt like a teenager before a first date with the person you like. Just as you were breaking down, Joel came back, pulling you into perspective.

You had recalled the three happiest days of your life: the first time you held Tara in your arms, the first kiss with Joel, and the day you met Joel. Even though the last happened at such a young age, you should have forgotten about them by now.

The car pulled into the parking lot of Joel's workplace, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

Finally, you arrived at Joel's office. The door stood ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound reverberated in the room, and Joel looked up from his desk, a warm smile breaking across his face.

It has been days since the first time you saw him again, and your heart was getting used to the idea of him surrounding you again.

"Hey," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm glad you came."

You offered a polite smile in return. "Well, you promised me a job or something.”

Joel gestured for you to take a seat. "Absolutely, I'm excited to discuss it with you."

Once you took a seat, he was speechless for a moment once again, his gaze fixed on you, on your hair, on your eyes, on your lips, and all over your face when he used to kiss you all over every time he wanted to, but he dismissed those thoughts away before you could notice he was looking at you that way.

"I've been thinking," Joel began, breaking the momentary silence, "about how we can make this work, about the job, about us working together."

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“"I know it's not just a job," he admitted. "It's a sort of chance for the both of us to rekindle our friendship.”

Friendship—how bad he wanted to be the romance.

“So is this a trap?” you asked.

“A trap? No,” he answered. “You know, all this construction stuff is not your cup of tea, but I would really like for you to help me get things organized here.”

“Why?” Your eyebrows frowned.

Joel leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "Because it was you who used to organize my life before, and you’re the most organized person I know.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly at his unexpected compliment, and the nostalgia in his eyes was evident.

"Joel, we need to be clear about our boundaries here," you emphasized, steering the conversation back to the work matter before it led to other things. "I'm here for a job, not to rekindle old flames or revisit the past. We have responsibilities, and our daughters are involved. Let's keep it professional."

He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree. Professional, it is. We're both adults, and I’m your boss now,” he smirked at the last sentence.

You chuckled at Joel's playful remark. "Fair enough, boss. Let's get down to the details, then. What exactly would my role be, and what are the expectations?"

Joel leaned forward, outlining the scope of the position and the responsibilities that needed your attention.

As you settled into the chair, Joel began outlining the job details, providing a comprehensive overview of the responsibilities involved. Your focus remained on the professional aspects of the conversation, but every now and then, a shared glance or a subtle reference to the past hinted at the layers of history between you.

Midway through the discussion, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Tommy entering the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked, glancing between Joel and you. His eyes widened, and a smile broke across his face as he recognized you.

"I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been so many years!"

Joel stood up, wearing a grin. "Tommy, I introduce you to our new assistant.”

You extended a hand, but Tommy went straight up for a hug. "I’m really happy to see you again.”

“I say the same,” you replied with a smile, feeling a warmth in reconnecting with Tommy.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with nostalgia. "Well, it's great to have you back in the picture. Joel rarely brings people here, so you know what that means?” He paused a moment to look at you again. "Wow, you look just as beautiful as I remember.”

You exchanged a curious glance with Joel, knowing the implication behind Tommy's words.

Joel rolled his eyes, a bashful grin on his face. "Tommy, stop making it sound like a big deal."

"Hey, I'm just stating the facts," Tommy replied, winking at you. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your business. Nice to see you again."

As Tommy exited the room, you turned back to Joel, the air carrying a subtle shift in dynamics.

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in work-related discussions, temporarily setting aside your shared history. The task at hand became the priority, and you delved into the details of the job, determined to establish clear professional boundaries in this unexpected turn of events in your life.

As the weeks passed by, Joel and you got used to your new routine; seeing each other added some excitement back to your life again, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for what you once had been together, bringing back the memories of the past, while the fresh cultivated growth between you added a new purpose to your days.

And as if the present would want to get the memories of your history together as two strings connecting your lives, you came back from a meeting with some suppliers with a scraped knee.

As you limped back into the office, Joel noticed your discomfort and immediately became concerned. "What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed with worry.

"Just a little accident during the meeting," you replied, trying to play it off. But Joel could see through the facade, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

He still knew you so well.

“They didn’t hit me, by the way; I fell. Just to clarify” you smiled, as Joel reached for the first aid kit, no long after, he was kneeling beside you, carefully cleaning and applying a band-aid to your scraped knee. The touch of his hands brought back a flood of memories—the innocence of childhood and the way he used to caressed your skin as you grew up.

As he secured the band-aid in place, Joel couldn't help but smile. "Do you remember the first time I did this?" he said, his tone nostalgic.

You chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? It seems like a lifetime ago."

Joel's gaze held a warmth that transcended time, and in that moment, the lines between past and present blurred. He placed his hand over your knee, and his touch made your skin burn at the contact, but not in an uncomfortable way, but as a warm sensation that only he was able to give.

"Joel,” you whispered.

Joel's touch lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a silent understanding between you, a connection that surpassed words.

"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure it's secure."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and familiarity. "Thanks, Joel. For taking care of me.”

A smile played on his lips, and he stood up, disposing of the used bandage. "Anytime, Doe.”

Your hearts kept beating at the same sound and at the same rhythm, desperately finding a way to belong to each other again.

Two days later, in the evening, as you were getting dinner ready for Dwight and Tara, Dwight suggested inviting Joel and Sarah over for dinner since it seemed like you and his daughter seemed to enjoy their presence so much.

“What? Why?” you asked, being caught off guard by the suggestion of having Joel share the same table with your husband.

“Well, it seems like Tara is a good friend with his daughter. Plus, it would be good to know this so famous Joel.”

You couldn't deny the truth in Dwight's words, but the idea of having Joel and Sarah over for dinner still stirred up complex emotions. Not for Sarah, of course. But Joel meeting the man you had settled with seemed so out of touch.

"Why not?" Tara chimed in, trying to reassure you. "It'll be nice having them over."

After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But keep it simple, okay?” You turned to Dwight and said, “Please, behave.”

Dwight nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Simple it is. It's just a friendly dinner, no strings attached."

You took a deep breath, considering the implications. "Alright, I'll call Joel. But let's keep it casual.”

You dialed Joel's number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hey, Doe, what's up?"

You smiled at the nickname this time. Since having him back, you were getting so used to his presence that you almost loved that word slipping from his lips.

"Joel, we were thinking of having you and Sarah over for dinner. Just something simple," you explained, trying to keep the tone casual.

There was a brief pause before Joel responded, "Dinner sounds great. We'd love to. What time?"

Joel agreed to the time you offered. You felt painful anticipation and nervousness after hanging up the phone.

As soon as you heard a car pulling over in front of your house, your heart rate increased at the nervousness you felt for what could be happening as soon as Joel entered that door. You feared Dwight the most. He wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly was someone different from the person you had married; his recent behavior had been puzzling, almost as if he wanted to drive you away. The thought of potential humiliation loomed, and you couldn't shake off the unease in your mind.

“I’ll welcome our guests,” he said, standing on the couch. You nodded, trying to mask the worry on your face.

As Dwight greeted Joel and Sarah at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself in the kitchen. The sounds of casual conversation and laughter echoed from the living room.

You walked there, approaching Joel, who was wearing a really tight smile, trying not to make you uncomfortable.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to erase the shakiness from your bones.

"Hey," Joel replied, his smile mirroring yours, but there was an unease in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed.

Dwight led everyone to the living room, and as they settled in, you couldn't shake off the tension in the air. Tara and Sarah, however, seemed eager to catch up, leaving you and Joel with a shared glance, reflecting the tiny smile at seeing both of your daughters spending time together.

“So, uhm, babe, why don’t you serve dinner? Our guests must be starving already!”

Dwight's casual comment lingered in the air, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you made your way to the kitchen. Joel followed suit, excusing himself from the conversation in the living room.

Once in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. You began to cut some vegetables for the salad, the clatter of utensils masking the quiet tension in the room.

Joel, sensing the unease, spoke up, "Do you need help?"

You glanced at him, grateful for the lifeline. "Sure, if you can handle chopping some vegetables."

As you worked side by side, the silence between you spoke louder than words. The weight of unspoken history loomed, and each passing moment felt like a delicate dance on a tightrope.

Joel broke the silence, his voice hushed. "Are you okay?"

You offered a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get through the evening."

He nodded, respecting the boundaries between the two of you. Ever since you two had rekindled your relationship and friendship, you had become more open to him, yet being in your house as the wife of another man was completely different. He felt tense, yet he wanted to be fine for you.

With the vegetables chopped and the dinner done, Joel and you walked around the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. The warmth of shared memories collided with the reality of the present once more.

It was Friday night, and you and Joel stood side by side at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables and exchanging stories from the day. Joel’s fingers brushed against yours as you reached for spice—a simple touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you prepared the ingredients, Joel leaned in, whispering the steps of the recipe in your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a rush of heat through you. Cooking had never been more enjoyable now than when you were living together, sharing stolen kisses in the middle of a kitchen transformed into a space where time seemed to stand still.

How bad you wanted time to stand still yet.

As the final touches were put on the dinner plates, Joel hesitated, his voice once again breaking the silence. "I never imagined us in a situation like this."

You paused, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, me being in the kitchen with you in the house you live in with your daughter and husband.”

The weight of his words echoed the sentiments you both shared but didn't dare voice. "Well, things change,” you replied, your tone carrying the weight of time passing by.

With the dinner ready, you both carried the plates to the dining table. Everyone sat down, Tara and Sarah sat side by side, and Dwight, seemingly at ease, directed the conversation toward casual topics, creating an illusion of normalcy.

Joel sat across from you, his eyes occasionally meeting yours, looking for an answer.

“So, Joel,” Dwight began, "what do you do for a living?”

“Building contractor,” he replied, a little bit tense.

“Building contractor” Dwight recalled, “We’re calling you when something gets broken.”

Joel chuckled, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Fixing things is what I do." He mocked.

Dwight nodded approvingly, steering the conversation away from the unspoken tension. "Well, it's good to have someone handy around. You never know when a pipe might burst or a door might get jammed."

“He is a contractor, not your personal Plummer,” you intervened, a little bit tense with Dwight's careless attitude.

Joel looked at you appreciatively, and you could sense his relief at your intervention. Dwight chuckled, a casual dismissal in his tone. "Well, fixing things is fixing things, right? It's all in the same realm."

You sighed inwardly, realizing that Dwight's nonchalant approach was his way of diffusing the tension, but it didn't alleviate the unease in the air. Joel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the delicate nature of the conversation.

“Maybe he could fix that attitude of yours,” Dwight said, swiping his wine as he pointed out your attitude.

You raised an eyebrow at Dwight's comment, with surprise and hurt crossing your face. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Joel let out a forced chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Dwight," Joel said with a half-smile, "we're all just figuring things out here. There is no need for any fixing, just understanding."

Dwight leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough, fair enough. I can take a joke. But seriously, Joel, you're welcome here. Just promise you won't go stealing my wife without a warning.”

Joel's forced chuckle faded into an uncomfortable silence as Dwight's comment took an unexpected turn. The atmosphere in the room became more palpably strained, and you exchanged a quick glance with Joel, recognizing the need to address the comment delicately.

“Tara, can you and Sarah go upstairs, please?” you pleaded. She immediately understood and took her friend with her upstairs.

Once they were out of sight, you turned to Dwight. “Stop behaving like an idiot in front of others,” you warned.

Dwight's playful demeanor shifted as he met your stern gaze. The air in the room carried the weight of your warning, and for a moment, the unspoken tension became more palpable.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Dwight responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Well, then lighten the mood without making inappropriate jokes," you countered, your voice firm.

Joel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's try to keep things civil and avoid unnecessary complications."

Dwight sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "Fine, fine. I'll tone it down. No more jokes.” He paused for a moment, not looking at you. “But I would like to know why my wife hides that you are actually her boyfriend.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Dwight's question hung in the air. You felt the weight of his words, and Joel's eyes met yours.

“Actually, I think I better be going. It’s getting late,” Joel spoke, meeting your watered gaze.

“No, you’re not,” Dwight warned. His expression remained firm, and he spoke with an authoritative tone. "Joel, you're a guest here, and we should resolve this now. We're all adults, and we can handle an honest conversation."

Joel hesitated, caught between the desire to avoid further conflict and the weight of the unspoken truths that lingered in the room. He glanced at you, silently seeking guidance. You took a deep breath, recognizing the need to address the situation.

"Dwight, we need to handle this with care," you urged, your tone calm yet firm. "Joel has the right to leave if he feels uncomfortable. We can discuss things more openly when tensions have cooled down."

“I want to know why you lied to me about it,” Dwight said to you.

In your nervousness, Joel noticed you were uncomfortable. He reached for you to touch your shoulder in order to make you feel better, but before he could come closer, Dwight intervened.

“Don’t touch her,” Dwight warned.

Joel withdrew, a frown forming on his face, but he respected Dwight's demand. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the unspoken complexities of the situation continued to unfold. The need for a careful and honest conversation was evident, but the challenge was maintaining a level of respect and understanding in the face of rising tensions.

"We need to talk about this," you said, your voice steady. "But let's do it when we can all approach the conversation calmly and with an intention to understand, not to accuse."

Dwight nodded, his expression still stern. "Fine, but we will address this. No more hiding."

Later, as you and Dwight prepared for bed, the weight of the unspoken conversation loomed over you. Dwight, however, was not ready to let the matter rest.

"Before we go to sleep, can we talk about this?" he asked, his tone earnest.

You hesitated, fully aware that addressing the issue in your current emotional state would only escalate matters further. Instead of responding directly, you began gathering a few belongings, making your intention to spend the night in the guest room clear.

"I just need some space tonight," you explained, avoiding eye contact. "We can talk about everything in the morning when we've had time to think."

Dwight's expression shifted between frustration and concern. "I just want to understand, to know the truth."

"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And we will talk. But not tonight."

“You’re married to me,” he called out before you stepped out of the room.

You turned to face him, your expression displaying frustration. “And?”

“You own me respect,” he stated.

“Respect must be earned, and right now you are acting like an idiot,” you acknowledged, your voice steady.

With that, you left the room, leaving Dwight to contemplate his behavior. Right now, you felt your marriage was dying little by little, and you wanted nothing more than just freedom.

+++

The next morning, there was a palpable sense of tension in the atmosphere. As you prepared for the day, the weight of the unresolved talk with Dwight hung heavy in your mind. He was nowhere to be found during the morning, so you get ready for the day.

After a restless night, you decided to head into work, hoping that a change of scenery and a return to routine might provide a necessary distraction. As you made your way to Joel’s office, you noticed Joel sitting with quiet contemplation in his eyes.

"Morning," you greeted, offering a tentative smile.

"Morning," Joel replied, his expression mirroring the unease in the room.

"Oh, I just wanted to say sorry for last night," you began, choosing your words carefully. " Dwight's attitude was completely

Joel shook his head, a small smile breaking through. "It's not your fault. Beside, I can handle a bit of tension."

You appreciated his understanding with a tiny smile.

“Did you sleep well, though? You seem restless,” he pointed out.

You sighed, acknowledging the toll the previous night had taken on your peace of mind. "Not really. The atmosphere was a bit... tense."

Joel's gaze softened, understanding the weight of the situation. “Well, I’m sorry for being back in your life,” he joked.

“Don’t say that,” you tilted your head. “You’re the best thing that happened to me this last time.”

Joel's smile widened at your words; the tension in the room was momentarily replaced with a warm exchange. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to be back." He paused and said, “Take your time. Relationships are like construction projects. They need a solid foundation and careful planning."

With a chuckle, you responded, "You would know, being a building contractor and all."

As the day unfolded, you found yourself grateful for Joel's presence and the brief moments of levity he brought. It was a reminder that, amidst the uncertainties, a supportive connection could make the uncharted territory feel a bit less daunting.

+++++

“By the way, Sarah called me; she and Tara are going to my house to finish this school project,” Joel told you.

A sense of relief washed over you as Joel shared the news about Sarah and Tara. It provided a welcomed diversion from the complex situation you had at home.

"Oh, that's great," you replied, a genuine smile forming. "At least they have each other's company. I hope the project is going well."

“It’s great how they became friends so easily. It reminds me of us,” he said, smiling.

You couldn't help but smile at Joel's observation. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?”

Joel nodded in agreement, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “Okay, so you’re free to go; I can drive Tara home once they’re done with the project.”

You nodded appreciatively at Joel's offer. "That would be great, thanks. And thanks for being here, Joel," you said, expressing gratitude for the fresh air he had offered you since he became part of your life again "It means a lot."

Joel nodded, a reassuring presence. "Take your time, and remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. We'll get through this."

“See you later, then?”

“See you later, Doe”

+++++

Once you arrived back home, Dwight was there. The tension already felt like a string around your neck, suffocating you all over.

As you stepped back into the house, the familiar surroundings felt charged with tension. You both exchanged a cautious glance, each aware of the elephant in the room. Dwight, however, seemed to be avoiding the topic, engaging in mundane conversations through his phone with someone else.

After some time, when you could no longer bear the unspoken tension, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dwight, we need to talk about last night. We can't just ignore it."

He sighed, a subtle avoidance in his eyes. "Can't it wait? I've got a work trip coming up, and I need to get everything sorted."

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your expression. "A work trip? You're leaving for the whole weekend?"

Dwight nodded, his gaze drifting away. "Yeah, well, I’ll come back next Friday. It's a last-minute thing. I need to handle some important projects. It came up unexpectedly."

The timing felt convenient yet suspicious. The air thickened with unspoken questions, but Dwight continued to divert the conversation away from the pressing issues.

"Dwight, we can't keep avoiding this," you insisted, your voice firm. "We need to address what happened."

"I know, I know," he replied, a hint of impatience in his tone. "But I've got to leave now, and I need to get some rest. Can we talk when I get back?"

The evasion felt deliberate, leaving you frustrated and with a sense of urgency to address the unresolved matters. However, faced with the impending work trip, Dwight's departure seemed inevitable.

"Fine," you reluctantly agreed, though the unease lingered. "But when you get back, we're talking about this. No more avoiding."

Dwight nodded, though his expression remained distant, but still he pecked your lips.

“Take care, and take care of Tara,” he said before stepping out of the house.

You were left there in the middle of a living room that felt colder as the days passed by. You have never felt so small in your life as you were feeling now, living under the same moon as Dwight, and that thought alone made you sick.

Every time sadness overcomes you and salty tears stream out of your eyes, you take out your memory box and look at the pictures of your older self, the one who thought she knew everything, the one who thought she knew herself without her half. Every single time you came across those memories, it was Joel, the one beside you, looking at you as if you were hanging the moon in the sky, and you smiled.

When you looked at the pictures of him, you were relieved by the words and the kisses, and suddenly all the space surrounding you was full of him. You had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t complete without him; he lived inside you because he made you feel complete; he taught you how to love and be loved and how to know you were worth the world; and after him, you accepted that you were never going to be that foolish girl again.

But now, you were in front of his door, hesitating and gathering the courage to knock on the door and face the what if, and when Joel opened the door with surprise on his face, you were him, and he was you.

"Oh. You’re not a pizza guy,” he said, with evident surprise in his voice.

You managed a small smile at Joel's observation, appreciating the brief moment of levity. "No, not the pizza guy. But I was alone at my house, and I thought I could stop by and take Tara home.”

“Actually, I promised the girls a pizza; we were just about to.“

"Oh, okay, I can come later,” you interrupted, feeling ashamed of the sudden feeling you have to be closer to him again.

“What are you talking about? Of course, no, come here,” he said, moving from the door entrance to allow you to step into his house.

This was the first time you were here, and you couldn’t help but recall all the features of Joel that made him him. How those tiny objects and decorations around his house told the story of him, and how would it be if you didn’t leave that night?

“Such a cozy home.” You emphasize the word home since this one felt like one.

Joel smiled warmly at your compliment. "Thanks. I try to make it feel like home. Come on in; make yourself comfortable."

Suddenly, his hand traveled to your waist, guiding you through his house, and the air was cut from your lungs. Your eyes met for a second, and his hand left his spot; however, his handprint still burned.

However, Joel guided you toward the living room, where Tara and Sarah were eagerly setting up the table for their promised dinner. The girls looked up, their faces lighting up with surprise and excitement.

"Hey, look who's here!" Joel announced, his tone cheerful as he entered the living room with Sarah and Tara. The girls greeted you warmly, their excitement contagious.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Tara asked, walking towards you to envelope you in a tight embrace.

You hug Tara and say, "I thought I'd drop by and join you guys for pizza." You lied.

I felt alone; you thought for yourself only.

Sarah chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Are you staying for the movie night too?"

You looked at Joel curious; he still had Friday's movie night. “I supposed,” you answered, still looking at Joel. “Can I?

"Absolutely,” Joel said, not taking his gaze away from yours.

“What about my dad?” Tara asked, “Is he okay with this?”

“Well, he left for a business trip, so we are alone for the weekend,” you replied.

And before more questions could be asked, the doorbell rang.

“The pizza, I’ll go for it,” Joel announced, disappearing from your view.

“Mom, are you okay?” Tara asked, concerned.

You gave Tara a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to spend some time with you and have a fun movie night."

Tara nodded, still showing a hint of concern. "If you ever need to talk or anything..."

"Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her caring nature.

As Joel returned with the pizza, the evening continued with shared laughter, conversation, and the simple joy of spending time together. The movie Night became a bridge connecting the past and the present, offering a glimpse into the potential for renewed connections.

The living room, adorned with warmth and laughter, and everything between you and Joel felt so natural as if time didn’t pass by.

You didn’t notice, but Tara paid attention to the both of you with a smile on her face. This exact moment was the picture she had always imagined of a happy family. A happy mother, a father who didn’t need to utter words to show the love he felt for the woman beside him, because she saw in Joel’s eyes the way he looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, that man loved you, and she felt at ease.

“You know, you can stay the night." Joel offered you, once Sarah and Tara fell asleep in Sarah’s room, “You can take my bed and I can take the couch.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the implications of Joel's suggestion. It was completely fine for a pair of friends, but you weren’t just that, and you both know that behind all the reconnection, there was addiction to something you couldn’t possess.

"I appreciate the offer, Joel," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "But I should head to my house.”

“But you don’t deserve to go to a lonely house,” he said, trying to plead with you about the idea of spending a night with you under the same roof. He started to feel a joy inside his gut, all his feelings hidden there.

You could sense concern in Joel’s voice and see the pleading dancing in his eyes, but saying yes to him felt like steeping into fire. You still saw in Joel all the habits he picked up from you, being the pleading eyes one of the things you remembered the most, and now you could understand the implications of what your departure did to him.

His heart broke in two, just like yours.

"I appreciate the concern, Joel, but I don’t think it is fair to you," you said, your voice gentle.

“Please?” He pleaded again, his eyes sparkling so much that you could follow the light on them.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” You gave up; you couldn’t say “no” to him so many times.

You saw his dark brown eyes twinkling as he nodded, smiling at your answer.

"Thank you," Joel whispered, breaking into a small, relieved smile.

You followed him into the familiar surroundings of his home; every step felt like discovering a new way back home. A sense of warmth enveloped you, making you feel protected and comfortable in Joel´s presence.

Once you stepped into his bedroom, you took a seat on his bed, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The familiar scent of Joel was all over the space that you could navigate inside this wall blindfolded, and the comforting presence of him felt like a step back in time.

Joel, sensing something dancing in your eyes, opened his closet and pulled out a set of comfortable clothes. "Here, you can wear these for the night. They should be comfortable enough."

“Oh my god!” you said, looking at the shirt Joel had lent you. “You still have this?” you asked him, in awe.

Joel chuckled, the warmth of shared memories evident in his eyes. "Yeah, I kept it. It's been tucked away in the back, but I figured it might come in handy tonight."

Your fingers traced the fabric of the shirt. "I can't believe you still have it. It feels like a lifetime ago."

He smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. "Some things are hard to let go."

For a moment, time between you stopped, and for a moment, you were still able to see the sunlight through his hair in the morning and how he sounded when he laughed. And you hoped you didn’t damage his heart that much.

"Thanks, Joel. It's been a while since I wore something from your closet." The soft fabric of the shirt still carried a subtle scent of Joel that brought back a flood of memories.

He chuckled a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yeah, it has. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight, Doe."

Doe

You allowed him to call him Doe this time, pretending he was still yours and you were his.

"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, changing into the borrowed clothes. The fabric held a hint of his familiar scent, adding an extra layer of comfort as you settled beneath the covers. The bedroom door closed, leaving you in the soft embrace of memories as sleep gradually claimed you.

However, the soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows as you lay in bed and witnessed your sleeping trouble as you tried to find solace in the familiar surroundings of Joel’s room.

It was different. Sleeping in a bed with the scent of the man whose presence allowed you to sleep wasn’t the same when he wasn’t next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

So, as sleep proved elusive, and after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you decided to go downstairs, hoping Joel was awake.

As you descended the stairs, the hushed sounds of the night filled the house. The soft creaking of the floor under your weight was the only disruption to the silence. When you reached the living room, you saw Joel sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on an old photo album.

He seemed lost in a sea of memories, unaware of your presence. You stood there for a moment, observing the emotions playing across his face as he traced the images with his fingers, as if he were savoring the past with his fingertips, trying to bring it back.

When he finally noticed you, a small smile curled his lips. "Couldn't you sleep either?

You shook your head, joining him on the couch. "Too many thoughts."

He nodded in understanding, closing the photo album. "I get it."

Back in time, Joel had the advantage of taking your heart when it was still a blank canvas expecting to be painted on. He took it so delicately and caressed it with such care in order to never hurt you. He made you love him so much that once he wasn’t in your life anymore, you didn’t know where to put his love anymore.

It never left.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the closed photo album in his hands. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper.

You sighed, the ache of longing settling in your chest. “Back when?”

"When we were young and foolish, everything felt so alive."

As you looked at Joel, his eyes held a warmth that transcended the years. "We can't change the past, Joel," you said, your voice gentle. “The past made us what we are now.”

“Yet it cost me to lose you,” he said.

You took a seat beside him on the couch; the distance between you measured not in physical space but in the vast expanse of years and the unspoken words that lingered in the air.

"I lost you too," you replied, your voice a whisper. The weight of the shared regret hung between you, a palpable reminder of the choices that had shaped your lives. "But maybe, in losing each other, we found different paths, different versions of ourselves."

Joel's gaze remained on the photo album, his fingers tracing patterns on the closed cover. "Do you ever wonder about what we could have been?”

"Always," you confessed. "But you don’t lose me at all; I’m here again.”

A small smile played on Joel's lips. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch a tender exploration of the years that had etched themselves on your skin. His thumb traced the contours of your cheekbones, a soft caress that spoke longing and love.

Leaning in, Joel brought his forehead to rest against yours, the closeness of your proximity stirring memories of when you belonged together. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, and inside your chest, you felt your broken heart patching together, with such a burning desire to close the distance between the two of you.

His lips hovered close to yours, a breath away, the pull of history and the magnetic force of shared affection urging him forward. The world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, and you found yourself caught in the gravitational pull of an unfinished story.

But even when the kiss could rewrite the story, you weren’t a cheater. You heart raced, but your mind stopped doing something stupid and naïve.

Before you could make up your mind completely, Joel pulled back, his eyes searching yours. The unspoken words lingered in the air.

"Does he treat you right?" Joel's words hung in the air, a mix of genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

You took a moment, your gaze meeting his, and there was a silent conversation between you two.

"In some ways, he's everything I need. In others, he's a puzzle I'm still figuring out." You answered.

Joel nodded, avoiding your gaze as he felt his heart break all over again for you.

“When I found out I was pregnant,” you began, “Dwight and I were dating. It had been only three months, and couples aren’t parents in such a short time.” You paused for a moment, hoping for Joel to look at you again, and when he did, you continued, “I was scared, but he was so nice to me at that moment, and by the end we were over the moon. At least I was happy I was going to have a baby girl. When Tara was born, we moved in together, and long story short, we got married because it seemed correct at the time.

“And?” Joel asked, trying to figure out when your life becomes different, but he still knew by the way your eyes looked that not everything was as fine as it seemed.

“He was an amazing husband and friend; it almost made me forget about the broken heart I had because of you. But these last four years with him had been complicated,” you continued, a touch of vulnerability in your voice.

“How?”

"Just because he is different from me. It’s like he is plotting for an ending and Tara is noticing, and it felt so humiliating to have your own daughter notice her father doesn’t love her mother.”

Joel's gaze softened for a moment, and before asking a question, he was scared to ask, “And do you love him?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden question, and a moment of hesitation hung in the air. You took a deep breath before answering.

"It's not that simple," you admitted, your voice carrying uncertainty and honesty. "I care about him, but..."

“But what?”

“You know what.” You said it in three simple words, and he understood.

It cost so much to keep love from going wrong, but between you and Joel, there wasn’t a particular ending. The lovers between you both never went wrong; neither expired because you were still hungry for each other's devotion. But now that it seemed like time had become your enemy, you weren’t young enough to break free and run as you could have done it before.

“I love you,” he said. “Never stop doing it.” His voice resonated as someone who spent years and years yearning for the touch of their lover.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, not avoiding saying the three words back to him; he didn’t need to hear them. He already knew you loved him back as much as he loved you. “For the way I left you,”

Joel's gaze held relief and understanding. He knew somehow you had healed from those wounds. "I don't blame you, Doe. We were young, and life threw challenges at us. I've had my share of regrets too.” He reached out, his hand finding yours, and they still fit together as one. “Now, can we please be friends again?” he pleaded.

You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Now that you’re back, I couldn’t let you go.”

Joel's eyes sparkled with a newfound light, and he suggested, "How about we watch a movie until you fall asleep?"

You agreed, and together you settled on the couch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of you in a world of shared moments.

As the movie played, the silence between you held a comfort that transcended words. Joel shifted, creating a makeshift pillow with his arm, and you found a natural spot on his chest. The rise and fall of his breath became a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a long time without pills.

Joel looks down at your sleeping figure on his chest, with your hand grasping the gem of his shirt. He was starved by your touch, wanting nothing but to trace patterns on your face as he used to. Your soft expression lines told the story of how the past and present went from here. That there’s no one he could call home, and you could never leave home completely, and how easy it would be to be young again.

And he looked at the ring on your finger, a reminder that you weren’t his anymore, and how easy it was for someone to feel hungry by something that was forbidden. Yet he thought about the ring he still had with him, still waiting to find its way to your finger.

You were the kind of love he couldn't find on someone else's body. Your touch, your lips, and every single inch of your skin were the starvation Joel was deprived of, and now you were his forbidden fruit.

Nevertheless, under the dim light of the TV screen, your face was glowing in a soft golden tone that sent Joel to sleep, but he was holding his dream in his arms for the first time after so long.

When the morning sun gradually painted Sarah’s room with the soft hues of the warm sun, Sarah and Tara descended the stairs, their steps cautious not to disturb the tranquil air that enveloped the living room.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, their eyes fell upon you and Joel, still intertwined on the couch, lost in peaceful sleep. Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness at the sight of her mother and Joel holding each other like that.

Sarah couldn't help but notice Tara's radiant smile. "Why are you smiling so big?" she whispered to her.

Tara motioned toward you and Joel, the affectionate way in which you two held each other not escaping her keen gaze. "Look at them,” she said, still smiling.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips.

Tara nodded, her smile unwavering. "This is the first time I have seen my mom at peace.”

Tara’s gaze was still fixed on the pair on the couch. "Maybe Joel can bring that peace back to my mom’s."

Sarah chuckled, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Are you saying we should ship your mom and my dad?"

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "I'm just saying if they make each other happy, why not?"

Weekend passed by and Tara asked no questions about why did you fell asleep on Joel’s chest, she clearly knew the answer to that question yet she didn't judge you, since she was a little girl, she noticed each sacrifice you had made for her and how you had distributed all the love you had inside your heart to her.

How bad she wanted for you to be brave enough and get divorced from her father.

So, when Monday arrived, the weight of the tension between you and Joel seemed to shift. The echoes of the weekend lingered in the air. This time, you both look happier, acting as friends, laughing together and sharing time as you kept your role of assistant.

So, before lunch and after you finished with the work Joel had left for you while he was out, you decided to go and buy lunch for him and you to share, after all you would arrive to an empty house since Tara would be still at school and Dwight was in a business trip, you didn't want be left alone with your thoughts in an empty house that seemed to become colder as the day passed by.

You buy a bottle of lemonade, and two burgers with French fries, hoping for Joel to still being number one of them. You weren’t used to come to this part of the city, but this time you stopped in order to bring the burgers and fries you wanted to share with Joel.

However, once you paid, the corner of your eye caught a person you didn't expected to see. There was Dwight, who was supposedly in New York until next weekend, buying food here. You turned away for him not to notice you, then you decided to follow him to see find out what was happening.

So, when you followed him, you stopped a little away and saw him happily taking a little girl around four years old in his arms as he kissed her temple with so much love you never saw him share with Tara, and what was next was a woman around the same age as you joining them with a smile on her face and you heart stopped.

She kissed Dwight on his lips, as both of them looked at the little girl smiling happily in the arms of your husband.

A surge of emotions tightened in your chest as you witnessed the scene unfold before your eyes. The knot of anxiety and confusion grew with each passing moment. The woman with Dwight, the affectionate exchange, and the child—all pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit into the life you thought you knew.

As the trio walked away to the car, laughter and joy enveloping them, you were left standing there, alone with the weight of a shattered reality

You felt humiliated. There were your answers. The four years of odd behavior, the four years of plotting against you, his sudden trips, his careless attitude towards you.

all the way, Dwight had made you and Tara move to Austin just for him to be closer to his other family, the secret one.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99

@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick

@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx

265 notes · View notes

laurfilijames · 5 months

Text

Like My Dreams

Part 2

Pete Dunham Masterlist

Intro Part 1

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Use of pain medication. Mentions of fighting/violence/hooliganism. Sexual tension/alluding to oral sex. Car accident resulting in a concussion, broken ribs, cuts/bruises. Mentions of stitches.

Summary: The days that followed meeting Pete consist of a blur of exciting moments of getting to know each other and growing feelings, and just when things start to really develop between you, a wrench is thrown in to disrupt it all but also drives home how precious life and love are.

A/N: Not much to say other than my love for Pete grows every day along with my drive to give him the justice he deserves! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! This film has a very small fan base so I'd love to chat with anyone who enjoys it as much as I do 💗

---

Pete Dunham.

The name turned over in your head again and again as he walked toward you, his limp less noticeable in his slightly cocky strut, and you nearly asked Fiona to pinch you in order to help you comprehend the reality of this.

Your eyes locked with his as soon as you noticed him, your surprise at seeing him there dressing your face, and you could easily see his own shock at you being Fiona's friend quickly morph into amusement.

"Well, look who we have here," he drawled. "I've either died and gone to heaven or someone is taking the piss."

You tilted your head, "Why would that be?"

"First of all, you show up in my class, and now you're standing in my pub. I already cheated death once, so I really can't figure out how else I'd be seeing you twice in one day."

"Is that a bad thing?"

He flashed you that same smile you had been picturing all day and shook his head slowly back and forth, "Oh, no."

"Good."

You could feel everyone else's eyes on you, watching the exchange between you and him, and yet all you could focus on were those blue eyes that seemed like they were staring into your soul.

"So this beautiful woman is both one of my student's aunts and Fiona's best mate?" he asked, to no one in particular.

You nodded, confirming his inquiries while chewing on your lower lip.

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, the simple but fully-charged words making you shiver.

"And you're not only the beloved Mr. Dunham, but also the infamous top bloke of the GSE?" you asked, finding your voice.

His eyebrows raised high on his forehead, "Have you been asking about me?"

"I might've been."

He let out a sort of growl and licked his lips, "Well then, I guess there's no use in denying any of it."

His hand was now outstretched between you, allowing you a better look of his long fingers than you had this morning, noticing the middle one was adorned with a gold ring, wild thoughts of how they might feel against your skin causing you to hesitate while he stood waiting for you to make contact in a handshake. You did so assuredly after taking a steadying breath to regain your composure, the confidence you seemed to radiate while being in his presence like nothing you had experienced before.

You gave him your name as your hands lingered, the tone of your voice holding onto something low and lusty, "It's nice to officially meet you, Pete."

The way you looked at him and the sound of his name falling off your tongue made him want to crash into you and kiss you right then, and although he was confident you would've welcomed it, he took a deep breath and willed his patience to come through.

Setting his empty glass on the bar, he declined another with the shake of his head when Terry offered a refill, turning his attention immediately back to you after disrupting it briefly. There weren't many times in Pete's life that he had turned down pints, and even if he hadn't taken a pain pill earlier, he still would refuse drinking another one, the thought of clouding this euphoria he felt in seeing you again something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for. The high he was experiencing beat any scrap or victory by the Hammers, and he silently vowed to give it all up tomorrow and be sober as a judge if it meant living and breathing the same air as you.

The endless days spent alone in his hospital bed gave Pete more than enough time to assess his life and think about his future, something he never really paid any mind to aside from when the next match was and who him and the boys would be up against, but those lonely moments had brought on a harsh realization that maybe he was missing something. He often envied seeing families pass by his room with arms full of gifts and treats to help their loved ones feel better, his smile fading as he grasped the fact that no one other than his brother and his mates occasionally stopped by to check in on him and make sure he hadn't done a runner, but he was grateful he even had that. With their dad long passed away and their mum living too far to warrant frequent visits, Pete began to consider what it would be like to have someone else in his life who cared about him, someone who could fill the space in his heart that up until then had been occupied solely by football and all the senseless nonsense that came along with it.

Those curiosities only increased when he was dismissed and staying with Steve and Shannon, having watched them rekindle their love for each other carefully and tenderly; her decision to stay and make things work solidified when the second Dunham brother had found his life gripped tightly in Death's hands.

He had promised himself that he would make it all count now, not wanting to waste the time that was given to him, and after meeting you he knew he wasn't going to let anything good slip through his fingers.

"Can I take you out sometime?" he suddenly blurted, the question tumbling out of his mouth on its own accord.

The gorgeous smile that seemed like a permanent fixture on your face grew while his did the same, and he felt his heart hammer in his chest as a fury of nerves burst through him as he waited for your answer to his question that now seemed completely mental.

"Yes," you giggled, your disbelief clear by the shake of your head and raise of your eyebrows. "I would love that."

Pete let out a nervous laugh and ran his hand over his head, the rush of relief and excitement he felt making him almost dizzy as he glanced around at the humored faces of his mates standing around him.

"Sweet," he said, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he turned his focus back to you. "Is tonight too soon?"

Reluctant goodbye's were finally said after you exchanged phone numbers with Pete, having Fiona essentially drag you out of the pub behind her, finding you were unwilling and nearly unable to peel yourself away from Pete.

He was incredibly charming and sweet, and you struggled to push down the feeling in your stomach you were certain that you had never felt so intensely before.

Fiona sighed dramatically as the door of the pub slammed shut behind you, her exasperation only fuelling you to smile even more.

"You two!" she cursed, grabbing your arms and shaking you as you lifted your hands up to your face to cup your own cheeks as you began laughing.

"My cheeks hurt!"

"No bloody wonder," she said with the roll of her eyes. "You've been grinning like a loon all night!"

Fiona released her grip on you and began walking in the direction of her house, leaving you standing looking at the door, half tempted to go back inside.

"Don't you DARE make me regret this!" she hollered, prompting you to move your feet and follow her down the road.

You ran a few steps to catch up, linking your arm in hers to help you keep in time with her quick and determined pace.

"Oh, come on, Fi! Besides, we met each other first without anybody's assistance," you reminded her, thinking back to hours ago when Pete looked just as heavenly in the morning sun shining through his classroom windows as he did in the dim light of The Abbey.

"Swill is gutted," she said dramatically.

You tapped her arm with your hand, "Oh, stop! He is not! Nothing has even happened…" you trailed off, thinking of all the things that were hopefully going to happen.

"The church is booked and the cake is being made as we speak. Oh! And listen…" she paused, stopping in her tracks and putting her finger to her ear, "There's the wedding bells…"

A week had passed since meeting Pete, those seven days filled with a joy you couldn't recall having experienced to that extent, each moment spent with him blissful and ecstatically happy.

Pete had an exuberance about him that was truly infectious, reflecting onto you and anyone around him like a drug, his liveliness noticed by everyone.

You admired him now, watching as he laughed with Terry, sharing a joke that made his lips spread so wide on his face that his cheeks creased the way you had quickly discovered you loved.

Beer spilled over the side of the pint glass as he handed it to you, the warmth of his fingers contrasting to that of the beer as they brushed with yours, his blue eyes alight with the same vigor that showed in his smile.

"Cheers, babe," he winked, clinking his glass with yours hard enough it made even more beer splash off the top of it and down his hand, his eyes still fixed on you as he brought it up to his mouth and licked the mess off his skin with a broad sweep of his smooth and incredibly alluring tongue. It was like he knew everything you were thinking, the mischief in his eyes confirming that this move of his was a subtle tell of meaning more, and flashing you another playful wink, he glanced up to the screen with the match on, making your heart flip in your chest and leaving you aching to discover everything his mouth was capable of.

So far it had all been just like this; hanging out at The Abbey with him, the lads and Fi, slowly getting to know each other amidst the normalcy of the GSE's scheduled meet-ups, your heart growing its affection toward him the more you were in his presence.

"I'd love to go one day," you shouted, loud enough Pete would hear you over the busy crowd surrounding you.

Shock, and mostly amusement crossed his features, his eyes twinkling while his lips curled into an even bigger grin, the stretch making the cut on the lower one split open and start bleeding again.

"You've never been?"

"To a West Ham match? No!" you returned his smile, unable to help yourself. "My uncle is an Arsenal fan. I've been to one game in my whole life."

Pete looked at you with astoundment, an exaggerated expression that bordered on being genuine dressing his gorgeous face.

"Tell me you're not a Gooner…"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, ignoring the inquisition, unsure if being an Arsenal supporter out of default was worse than not paying attention to the sport hardly at all.

"He brought me once because I begged him! He was so nervous about taking me because it was too dangerous…thanks to hooligans like you!" You touched his arm flirtatiously, feeling his muscles flex while he watched you with an expression you couldn't place.

"One game?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your beer.

He licked his lips, increasing your ache for wanting to do that yourself, glancing up at the telly before back at you.

"Right, we're going Saturday."

"Really?"

"Really."

He held your gaze for a beat, making your heart feel like it stopped completely, and you dared to bring your hand up to his face, using your thumb to swipe away the blood that clung to the corner of his lip.

Pete hung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, the temptation he felt to kiss you making him feel antsy enough he had to take another long drink of his pint to distract from it.

Everything buzzed around you.

It was unclear if it was because you were with him, or it was just the enthusiasm of the stadium that had you feeling this way, but it felt like the most exciting thing you had ever been a part of as you walked down the concrete steps to the GSE's designated seats.

"Can I at least buy the beers after?" you asked, feeling slightly guilty in knowing how much these boys forked out for the seats.

Pete laughed heartily, "Fuck, no! You're my date! I refuse to let you pay for a single thing when this was all my idea."

He smiled at you before looking out onto the pitch proudly, allowing you another chance to admire him just as you did any other time the opportunity arose, his features something you swore could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

"Besides," he grinned, "It's Swill's turn to buy all the rounds after the game…"

"'S not!" Swill shouted, his scowl making Pete's grin shine even more, his pleased chuckle at riling up his mate mixing in with the noise of the crowd.

An argument broke out between Swill, Ike and Dave about who owed what in terms of beer and exactly how many rounds were left unsettled, leaving you and Pete to lose yourselves in each other, leaning in close to talk, the start of the match very unimportant as his hand rested on your thigh and his gaze lingered on your lips.

With the Hammers having won, everyone was in bright spirits, and you knew as you walked through the congested crowd with your hand entwined in Pete's that you would've felt the same even if they had lost, the charged glances he was continuously flashing sparking the growing need inside you to uncover all the pleasurable things that were possible.

The two of you lagged behind while the other boys walked on ahead in the direction of the pub, allowing softer moments shared without notice, Pete pausing in his confident strides to search your eyes with his vibrantly blue ones while his smile split his face.

"Did you have a good time?"

"I did," you assured, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

"No dangerous hooligans to scare you off?" he teased.

"Not a single one…"

His laugh turned into a sort of growl as his own lip tucked in his teeth, his head turning in the direction of his mates before whipping back to you.

"You sure about that?"

You nodded. "I'm not scared, Pete…"

He was about to kiss you, leaning in to dip his face beside yours, until Swill's voice echoed through the tunnel and stopped him in his tracks.

"Oi! Fuck head! 'S your round, Pete, ya cunt!"

"Fucking Christ…" Pete muttered, pulling away from you reluctantly. "I may kill him one day."

You laughed, causing his frustration to grow into a chuckle, and he grabbed your hand and started walking again, nodding in the direction of the others with another beaming smile.

"Come on."

It had been three days since last seeing Pete, the amount that you missed him equalling the excitement you felt about seeing him tonight when you would go out on your first 'proper date' as he had called it.

Everything was up to him when it came to the plans, the only thing revealed to you so far that he was taking you to a lush Italian restaurant he had made reservations at, and that he was picking you up from Fiona's at seven.

Butterflies had made themselves busy in your stomach since the moment your alarm woke you up, and as you drove Jack to school now, they increased even more in knowing there was a small chance of seeing him outside as he went into work.

"Are you coming for tea tonight?" Jack asked, his hopeful voice making you feel guilty before even telling him no. "Mum's making that chicken dish you love so much."

"Ahh, of course she is! But sadly, I can't tonight, little lad," you gently explained, pulling up to a traffic light. "I'm actually going on a date…"

Your words trailed off as you glanced in the rearview mirror at him, waiting for his reaction, which came as you had expected in the form of a disgusted scowl.

"A date? Ew!"

You laughed as you looked back at the road, lifting your foot off the brake and onto the gas pedal to start accelerating as the light turned green, appreciating your nephew being in this stage where boys and girls still viewed each other as gross.

"Oh, come on!" you pleaded. "I think you'd like him…"

He scoffed and looked out the window as you peeked at him again briefly.

"Better be a West Ham supporter…" he muttered.

You bit your lip. "Oh, he is, don't worry!"

You debated telling him that his beloved teacher was your date, not wanting him to feel awkward or have it change his opinions on him, but sensing how well things were going between you, Jack was going to find out eventually anyway.

Opening your mouth to admit your little secret, your words were cut off as a car slammed into the side of yours, a gasp being forced out instead as all the wind was knocked out of your lungs, the sound dying in the deafening noise of metal crashing together and tires screeching on asphalt.

Your body was jostled violently, your head smacking hard against the window and then into the deployed airbag that felt like hitting a rock, hearing yourself desperately scream Jack's name before everything was dark and silent.

Consciousness returned to you briefly, your body overcome with pain as it slowly registered in your brain that struggled to comprehend what was happening, your head throbbing and feeling like it had been split in two.

All you could hear through the sound of a consistent, blaring horn was Jack crying, his sobs ringing in your ears in a piercing and terrified way that had you trying with all you had to turn around in your seat to get to him.

Sharp pain shot through your entire right side, making you black out again, the sound of your name being screamed in the petrified and pained howls of your nephew the last thing you could comprehend.

A nauseating grogginess filled you as you slowly opened your eyes, hearing the low hum of a machine and a soft, but incessant beeping that seemed to come from everywhere around you at once, the recollection of the accident barrelling to the forefront of your delayed mind as panic and worry threatened to make you ill.

"Hey, hey, you're alright," Pete's soothing voice greeted you, the worry in his blue eyes as he stood beside your bed outshining the look of comfort he was attempting to give you.

"Jack?" you croaked, looking at him desperately, immediately needing the answer to the question you couldn't even form.

"He's fine," he assured, his long fingers wrapping over your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Just a bit banged up and scared, but he's good as."

Pete smiled gingerly at you as your body sank back into the bed, hot tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, the relief you felt battling against the guilt and fault that filled you at having put your nephew in danger.

"'S alright…" he cooed, a pain filling his eyes at seeing you hurt and upset, his thumbs carefully moving up to your face to wipe away your tears that ran through the dry blood speckling your skin.

Your head tilted into his palm, embracing the closeness and warmth of him, feeling yourself calm slightly as he brought his forehead down to rest against yours, his exhale blowing on your lips that were wet from the stream of tears making you let out your own steadying breath.

Pete could barely stand it, the worry and heartache that grew to be ruthlessly persistent tearing through his entire body from the moment he found out about your accident, and even though he knew you were okay, it lingered with as much intensity that it had started out with.

All he could think about was how close he had come to getting everything he had dreamt of, only to have it almost be ripped away from him in a matter of seconds.

The lump in his throat threatened to give way as he sat there with you, hoping to convey everything he felt for you without actually saying it, reminding himself that you hadn't even officially established any sort of relationship.

"I'll go get Jack for you then, yeah?" he whispered, peeling himself away from you reluctantly. "He's been gunning to get in to see you."

You nodded and used your own hands to clear your tears this time, hoping you looked somewhat presentable given the circumstances and not banged up enough to scare him even more.

"Don't worry," he said with a smile, "he's already seen you through the window, refused to rest until he saw for himself that you were alright."

Pete stood from the chair that he had scooted to be as close to the bed as possible, that familiar, cheeky look appearing on his face as he added, "You're still gorgeous as ever. Plus, I think the cuts and bruises are sexy."

He winked at you before he turned and exited the room, leaving you alone for a moment that had you instantly wishing for him to be back with you.

A smile broke out on your face as you listened to them approach your room, their banter making you laugh despite it hurting to do so.

"Mate…you're mental if you think for a second that your bruises look harder than mine," Pete teased Jack.

"Nuh uh! Look at this one! And this cut needed ten stitches!" Jack bragged as he pointed to various wounds on his arms and face, his pridefulness in his injuries telling you he was truly okay.

"Yeah, yeah, tough guy," Pete jokingly waved off, opening the door to your room to let Jack burst through it at a run. He slowed when he reached you, reining in his excitement so he didn't hurt you, giving you a once-over as he tried to decide whether or not it was okay to hug you.

"Come here," you softly ordered, opening your arms to welcome his small frame.

He carefully brought his body against yours, his arms wrapping around your neck rather than your torso, burying his head into your neck where you kissed his hair and then ruffled it with your fingers, the gratitude you felt to be able to hold your sweet nephew making you choke up again.

Jack was crying too, his body moving with each sob, him answering every repeated apology that spilled out of your mouth with a squeaky 'it's okay'.

When he eventually pulled himself away from you, you looked at him with a smile, fixing his hair by brushing through it with your fingers.

"How cross is your mum with me?"

Jack laughed and shook his head, "She's not. She's been crying the whole time being so worried about you."

You nodded, knowing if you spoke that your words would come out shaky and weak, needing a moment to take in the battered face of the boy who had stolen your heart from the second he was born.

“You look like you've been scrapping with the GSE,” you complimented, watching him light up at the thought of it.

Exhaustion took over you quickly, the visit with Jack soon followed by your sister sucking what little energy you had right out of you, and once the doctor had been in to explain your injuries and their severity to you, you were completely drained.

A concussion and three cracked ribs were the worst of your wounds, the rest consisting of bumps and bruises amongst cuts that had appeared in your skin from shards of glass slicing through it, all adding up to result in you having to stay for at least another day for monitoring.

Pete came back into the room after the doctor had left, wanting to see you one more time before the last minutes of visiting hours had run up.

“How d’you feel?” he asked, taking his seat again in the chair beside you and leaning close, automatically reaching out to hold your hand.

“Tired. Sore. Overwhelmed,” you paused and looked at him seriously, “Like I was hit by a car.” You said it with a strained laugh, but it quickly died out into a sigh, the pain caused from it reminding you of what else was causing you grief. “Mostly disappointed…”

“Disappointed?” Pete echoed, his brows knitting together.

“Our date…”

He hummed, bringing your entwined hands up to his lips where he ran them over your knuckles back and forth.

“I was really looking forward to it,” you murmured, an overall sinking feeling coming over you.

“Me too,” he admitted. “But I promise you that I will make up for it a million times over once we’re able to.”

“I'll hold you to that, Mr. Dunham.”

He grinned at you confidently, shifting in his seat to sit back in it a little straighter.

“Speaking of…Jack had a lot of questions as to why I was here.”

You nodded, tucking your lip in your teeth as you looked down at your hand still being held in his. “He asked me, too.”

“So, Mr. Dunham is your boyfriend?” Jack asked with a twisted face.

“Not my boyfriend…but who I was going on the date with. We've been hanging out a bit.”

He was quiet for a minute, clearly processing the news.

"Look, Jack, if that makes you uncomfortable I don't have to see him, he's your teacher-"

“Are you gonna get married or summat?” he blurted, cutting you off.

You didn't know how to respond, your head pulsing with every thought that passed through it, the pain medication not helping you articulate things easily.

"I- no?"

Jack smiled, the awkward mix of baby and adult teeth on full display always making you love to see it more.

"I'd be okay with it."

Pete caught your smile as you recalled your earlier conversation, his own grin spreading out to crease his cheeks despite not knowing the reason behind yours.

“What's got you smiling like that?”

“Nothing,” you fibbed. “Just something Jack said. He's quite pleased about this.” You motioned between you and Pete with your finger, the morphine in your veins nearly making you bold enough to tell him exactly what was said.

Giving you a suspicious look, Pete was about to open his mouth and respond with what you knew would be something cheeky, only to be interrupted by a nurse knocking on the door and striding into the room on a mission.

“Visiting hours are up,” she announced, glaring at him before turning her attention back down to your chart.

Pete raised his eyebrows at her, but chose not to make any remarks, standing up with a sigh. “Right. I'll be back tomorrow then, yeah? Bust you out of here.”

He winked when the nurse shot her head up, clearly unimpressed by his intentions even if it was a joke.

“You don't have to-”

“Bollocks. Anything you need you just ring me, yeah?”

He dipped down close to you, his brilliantly coloured eyes searching your features with the same seriousness that showed in them earlier. “You sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you said, although with little surety. “Thank you, Pete.”

The look you gave him made him want to fight in order to be able to stay with you, the memories of his own experience of being stuck and alone and in pain in this same hospital striking a nerve in him, but he knew there was nothing he could do to get his way and accepted the defeat.

“‘Course, darling,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead where he let them linger. “Get some rest, eh. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Pete stepped into the hallway and rested his back against the door after it closed behind him, shutting his eyes and exhaling a deep breath. As much as he hated being back here, having to relive every horrible moment spent confined in the small walls of the room that had been his home for many excruciating months, he would return day after day for you until you were able to be released.

He zipped his jacket up to his chin and pushed off the door, preparing himself to brace the brisk, night air when he got outside, praying you would be well enough to go home tomorrow.

It terrified him a bit to feel as strongly for you as he already did, an anxiety he hadn't ever felt so intensely settling in his chest like a knot since he got the call from Fiona that you had been in an accident, but Pete knew that he would take this worry any day as a consequence of caring for someone this much.

Steve and even the lads would probably tell him he was rushing into things, to take it slow, but after today he refused to waste another minute of the second chance he was given not letting his heart have the things it had missed out on up until now.

The sliding doors opened and he passed through them into the fresh temperature, taking a deep breath to try to rid his lungs of that medicinal, stale hospital air, instantly feeling revived despite there being various people standing outside the entrance smoking.

His body felt achy and stiff, his limp ever-present as he began walking in the direction of his flat, becoming aware of how tense he had been all day, his stress coming to show with each step.

He had to smile though, thinking of how good it was going to be when he could finally take you on that date, a million ideas of how he could spoil you rushing through his mind.

His phone rang in his pocket, making him pause in his uneven steps to pull it out to quiet the chimey ringtone, answering a call from Swill.

"Aye, aye," he answered solemnly, his usual upbeat tone absent in his greeting.

"You coming for a pint?"

Pete winced, hesitating in his answer, contemplating how he felt.

"Nah, mate, I don't think so."

"Come on! It's Friday night, you wanker. You could use a beer after today."

Pete chuckled lightly, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just knackered, mate. Gonna call it a night and try to get back to the hospital at a decent time tomorrow."

"Yeah, alright. Fi said she's going first thing and hopes to bring her home."

"I bloody hope so," Pete said quietly and mostly to himself.

"You alright, Peg Leg?" Swill asked, a rare seriousness sounding in his voice.

"Brilliant…" he huffed. "Just a bit worried, yeah?" he admitted, kicking a stone with his pristinely white trainers before he continued walking.

"Rightly so, mate. We all see how you feel 'bout 'er, clear as day."

Pete smiled despite feeling on the verge of cracking, the pressure building behind his eyes becoming too much too suddenly that he rubbed them aggressively with his finger and thumb to try to wane it away.

"She'll be alright, Pete…" Swill filled the silence, having sensed the reason behind him being so quiet.

"Yeah, she will be."

"You know where we'll all be if you change your mind, eh?"

"Yeah, mate, thanks."

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, cheers."

Pete let his phone snap closed and tucked it back in his pocket, the heaviness of how precious and fleeting life was weighing on him, each uneven step reminding him of the near miss he'd had to never experiencing something like this and solidifying that he wasn't about to let a good thing slip through his fingers.

---

Part 3

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13

#pete dunham #green street hooligans #charlie hunnam #pete dunham x female reader #pete dunham x reader #green street hooligans fic #pete dunham fic #charlie hunnam characters

59 notes · View notes

madhatterbri · 4 months

Text

Take a Letter | Hangman A.P.

Summary: In a moment of vulnerability, you penned a heartfelt letter to Adam, confessing lingering feelings and doubts about your marriage. Days later, Adam discovers the letter and returns to you.

Author's Note: Western AU starring Hangman. Mentions of Nick and Matt Jackson and Ric Flair.

Please remember none of the western stories are linked together. ❤️❤️

My Dearest Adam,

As the sun sets and night takes over the town you once called home, my heart wrestles over the notion of getting married to such an awful man. This union weighs heavy on my thoughts, and I wonder if I have made the right choice in allowing him to accept my hand in marriage.

In the rare quiet moments I have while running the saloon, I reminisce about all the dreams we shared under the full moon and stars. Oh, how I wish they would become a reality. Perhaps they will in another life.

I yearn for the days we spent traveling under the merciless rays of the sun, and our love ran free like the wild horses.

May our paths cross once again, my love.

Yours, Now and Always,

Y/N

Adam stood motionless as his eyes swam through the letter once more. She still loved him despite everything that happened between them. The soft sobs of her servant sounded in his hideout house. He gripped the paper roughly and looked at her. His stern eyes glared at her. She flinched.

"Why are you just giving this to me now, Dollie?" He demanded. The date on the corner of the letter was a week before her wedding. He wondered why he was given this letter only two days before her wedding. What if I'm too late, he thought to himself.

"I wanted what was best for her. I've known her since she was a baby. You can't be mad at me for acting in what I thought was her best interests. After her father passed that saloon has been her everything," the woman sobbed louder. She blew her nose into her handkerchief. Adam rolled his eyes at the woman's dramatics.

"Where is she?" He asked. In order to make up for lost time, he needed to get to her sooner rather than later.

"She still works at her dear father's old saloon, m-Mister Hangman," she answered between breathy sobs. Hangman slid the paper in his pocket and stomped towards his horse. The woman quickly followed after him, sliding into her carriage. She silently prayed that she wasn't too late.

👢

"To the best little watering trough in the town," a drunken man yelled. His glass, full of alcohol rose high in the air. He swayed in his chair as he fished for something in his pocket. Crumpled up pills trapped in his hand. He slammed a fistful of bills on the bar top. "Another round on me!"

The saloon erupted in cheers. Spirits were lively at the Sundown Saloon. The saloon served customers from different occupations such as lawmen, cowboys, and even outlaws. With the owner of the saloon getting married, more customers turned out than ever before.

You stared from the second floor with a mix of emotions. Tonight was the last night your father's dream would stay alive. Tomorrow, Sundown Saloon would be no more. Just a bittersweet memory of your father's second pride and joy.

Heavy footsteps coming up the stairs distract you from your thoughts. A drunk man teetered up the stairs. His alcohol spills all over the floor. A madam smiled and winked at you. The man was too drunk to know what he was getting into. The woman was known to rob the men as they slept.

"Congratulations, missus," the man spoke. His eyes half closed. He raised one of his hands to show you his missing ring finger. He slurred his words. "Don't cheat. Learned the hard way,"

"Thank you for your advice, Mr. Flair," you smiled.

"Come on, darling. There is fun to be had," the madam told the old man. She winked at you before sauntering away with him.

The madam and drunk man left you to yourself. The man on the piano played a lively tune. Men and women alike were jumping to their feet to dance. Those too drunk to stand on their own, resigned to just sitting on a stool and singing loudly. You chuckled to yourself and walked to your room to get ready for your nuptials tomorrow.

You sat in silence as you stared at your wedding dress. Any woman would be ecstatic that they were getting married tomorrow, but not you. Your heart was out there somewhere in the sands of Texas.

Your fingers ran through your hair as you decided to get ready for bed. A good night's sleep will wash away all the doubt. Your door suddenly opened and revealing Dollie at the doorway.

"Y/N, please don't be cross with me," Dollie breathed heavily as if she had just run a mile to get to you.

"Cross with you? Where have you been?" You questioned her whereabouts. She was like a mother to you ever since your mom passed when you were a baby. Now she came to you smelling something awful and dirty.

The servant looked down ashamed and opened the door. Before you stood the one and only Hangman.

👢

Adam stopped at the doorway and stared at you. His light eyes took all of you in. He thought he would never see you again after he left you. He stepped inside and lowered his black bandana.

"I... I should go," Dollie excused herself. She closed the door behind her, leaving the two of you alone in your bedroom.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got your letter," he answered and grabbed the letter from his pocket. Two fingers held the folded letter before you. Your mouth dropped in shock.

"That paper is nothing but a foolish child's dreams. Give it to me so I may burn it," you ordered and reached out to take it from him. He placed the letter back in his pocket. You stared at him in confusion.

"Don't marry him," he whispered, yet you could hear him clearly.

"What?" You asked in shock. Your eyes furrowed in confusion. The last time you saw Hangman, he was running away from you at the mere thought of a life together.

"You heard me,"

"Why?" You asked.

"You know why,"

"So I can go off with you, and then you get scared and leave in the middle of the night again?"

He flinched at your words. That night had to be the biggest mistake of his life. After years of the two of you playing cat and mouse, he finally opened up to you. He was in love with you. Thoughts of you being a weakness to him shrouded his judgment. While you slept next to him, he took off.

"No more running. Matt and Nick, they have families, and that's what I want one day with you if you will have me,"

You opened your mouth about to let your hurt ruin everything you wanted with him. You took a deep breath. As much as he hurt you that night, you were still in love with him. "I'm to be married tomorrow,"

He looked down and sighed. He figured he would be too late, but he wanted one last shot to tell you how he felt. "I'll leave you to get married. He's a very lucky man,"

This was it. The last time you would ever see the Hangman, your Hangman. Your heart pounded so loud that you wondered if he could hear it. You had to push your emotions aside if you wanted to be with him again.

You opened the door to your bedroom. Dollie almost fell down yet caught herself. She was known to eavesdrop on conversations. Especially your conversations when it came to the Hangman.

"Dollie, excellent timing as always. Please prepare my effects and my horse. I do not believe my wedding will be taking place tomorrow,"

Dollie smiled triumphantly and bowed her head. "As you wish, my dear,"

#fanfiction #aew fanfiction #love #hangman adam page x y/n #hangman adam page x reader #hangman adam page x you #western au

28 notes · View notes

obsidiancreates · 9 months

Text

Taishen's Guide On Being The Best Uncle You Can Be

(Somehow I hit exactly 1,400 words for this. I just wanted to say that because that is a damn satisfying wordcount.)

It takes just about a year after traveling with Gricko and Frost for Gideon to start being called "Uncle Gideon" whenever Gricko mentions him to Hootsie.

"He sure warmed up to us quick," Kremy had said one night, sitting by the campfire and keeping an eye on his roux. "Callin' us family already seems a little much, don't it, Gid?"

"Yeah, but he's a fuckin' weird little guy. Not really surprisin'."

"True."

Truth be told, Gideon doesn't mind it. He thinks Kremy doesn't mind the "Uncle Kremy" title either, because there's always just enough room in the budget to buy Hootsie a trinket, or snack, or new little hat. And sometimes Gideon decides not to go back for thirds of whatever Kremy cooks so Hootsie can have seconds, and sometimes Gideon doesn't even need to hold back because Kremy sets aside extra just for her.

The first time Gideon accepts it aloud, though, is when they're staying in a little inn, and Hootsie is dancing just for fun in the tavern area, and someone throws a tankard at her and calls for the "wild beast" to be thrown out.

The man finds himself thrown out, his throwing arm broken, and the shout of "That's my fuckin' niece, asshole!" haunting his drunken dreams.

"That was very violent, Gideon," Gricko says later as they're all prepping the single room they could get. Hootsie is curled up in the corner, a little rattled still, but Gricko already has his pack set out and is making up a little bed for both of them where she lays. Gricko's tone is scolding, but he mouths "Good job," when he knows Hootsie can't see it.

"People shouldn't be throwin' things at her," Gideon says with a shrug, fluffing up his thin-as-paper pillow as much as he can. "She's just a baby."

"Your little baby niece," Gricko says with a wide grin. "Isn't that right, Hootsie? You've got big strong Uncle Gideon to protect you!"

Hootsie looks up at Gideon with those giant round eyes and hoots. Maybe Gideon's starting to catch some of Gricko's strange brand of cookoo-bananas, but Gideon could swear she looks and sounds grateful.

"Yeah yeah, I'm Uncle Gideon, we all heard me say it." Gideon gets into the bigger bed in the room as Kremy and Frost play a game of cards to determine who gets the other one (card counting versus slight-of-hand cheating, mind-reading versus shadow magic, it's tough to know who'll win) and shuts his eyes. The sounds of shuffling cards, Gricko telling Hootsie a bedtime story, and the bed likely splintering beneath Gideon's own weight lull him to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gideon walks into a tea shop. He doesn't really drink tea, that's more Frost's thing, but he's here anyway.

He doesn't question it, as is the nature of dreams.

"Finally!" an excited voice rings out in the empty shop as Gideon finds himself sat down at a counter. The golden dragonborn on the other side grins brightly at him as he pushes a cup of fresh tea forward. "I've been waiting so long for you to finally realize you're an uncle!"

"Uh... what?" Gideon takes a sip of the tea. It's actually not bad. He didn't know tea could be spicy.

"That little owlbear has a lot of support, but that doesn't mean you can take being her uncle any less seriously." The dragonborn gestures at an ink painting hanging on the wall, of himself and a younger dragonborn girl. "Mei Li taught me just how important this role truly is, and I'm going to help you be the best possible uncle you can be."

"Hey man, listen. I appreciate the fuckin' thought and all, but, I don't know who the hell you are!"

"You won't remember once you wake up anyway," the dragonborn says, pouring himself a cup of tea and pulling a stool over to his side of the counter. "We've talked a few times, actually. But those were usually extremely upsetting times, and now we finally have something to celebrate!"

"Celebrate with tea?"

"I know you prefer alcohol, but if I can get Skrimm to enjoy tea I can get you to enjoy it as well."

"Well, I dunno why I'd need any advice on bein' an uncle, 'cause it seems pretty fuckin' easy t'me." Gideon knocks the rest of his tea back. The cup is full when he sets it down. "Give her treats, buy her stuff when she wants it, and punch guys who're fuckin' dicks to her."

"Those are all part of it," the dragonborn agrees, "But there's more to it than just spoiling her and protecting her. You have to nurture her as well!"

"I mean, Gricko's her dad, he's the one who's doin' all the raisin' and stuff."

"If you all lived in a town, that might work out just fine. But you're always on the move! You're the only four constants in this young girl's life, so you're all very influential on her as she grows!"

"Aw, man. I gotta be a good fuckin' influence now? I just got outta havin' to watch my every fuckin' move all the time, man."

The dragonborn seems to deflate, suddenly growing weary and ancient. "I'm... very aware. But I promise it's nothing like that. I just mean that Hootsie is an impressionable little girl right now, and it's a good idea to teach her important, valuable lessons."

"... Like... if somebody's bein' a fuckin' dick, she can bite their fingers off?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd encourage it to be that extreme, but self-defense is a good lesson, yes! And self-respect, it's much easier to defend yourself when you respect yourself and your value."

"Okay... I think I get it. And uh... knowin' when somebody's talkin' a load of bullshit."

"Exactly! Not to insult anyone but, you and I both know that Gricko can be... quite gullible. I mean, I understand him, I was very much the same way for most of my life, and can still be now. Oh, I remember Skrimm told me that a certain gesture was a universal greeting-"

"Which one? This one?" Gideon flips him off.

"That's the one! He always managed to find me when no-one else was around and pull pranks on me like that." The dragonborn laughs a little, fond. "Oh-ho, when it was a matter of life or death I was truly distressed, but now it's easy to look back and laugh."

"Alright, so, make sure she knows she can bite people, make sure she knows when she's bein' tricked, and I guess... make sure she knows how to get outta tough situations!"

"That's another great idea!"

"Man, I knew this whole uncle thing'd be easy." Gideon knocks the tea back again and looks around the shop. There's lots of ink paintings like the one he saw before, with these two dragonborn enjoying life. One catches his eye, of the man who sits across from him letting the young girl ride around on his shoulders.

"That'll be easy too," Gideon says, gesturing at the painting with cup in hand and sloshing spicy tea all over the floor- or would, if it ever hit the floor, but the tea just ceases to exist before it makes an impact. "Fuckin' piggyback rides and life lessons, easy as hell."

"And best of all, rewarding. It's an incredible joy to care for a child, as much as it is a serious responsibility." The dragonborn looks around. "And if you see Yorgrim when you leave here, let him know about the piggyback rides you plan to give. I think he'll appreciate a little warning."

"Who?"

"You're right, I'll tell him. I think you're waking up now anyway."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gideon picks Hootsie up and plops her onto his shoulders as the group exits the inn and gets going. Hootsie gives a startled hoot at first, and then looks down. Her face lights up, eyes ghetting as big as possible, and she gives another, more excited hoot as he leans over to watch everything from her new height!

Taishen sighs happily as he watches, and looks up at Yorgrim. "Does that help soothe some of your old wounds?"

Yorgrim huffs a little. "It's... bittersweet."

Taishen reaches up and pats Yorgrim's arm. "I understand. ... Tea?"

Yorgrim is quiet for a moment before sighing and holding his hand out. "Thank you."

"Of course, my friend."

#legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #icebound #gideon coal #taishen fireblossom #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

111 notes · View notes

racinggirl · 2 years

Text

unconditionally || lando norris 4

type: one shot pairing: lando norris x reader word count: 2.9k summary: meeting each other turns into something other than just friends... Will he trust you? requested: yes! ''Lando Norris with a singer!reader please'' (by anon) Requests are OPEN warnings: mentions of cheating, trust issues, a little bit of angst, mentions of s*x, swearing notes: I loved writing this one! it's something I'm quite proud of, especially since I've connected a song to it. I linked the song in the text, so just click on the link to listen to it once you get there!

my masterlist

We all know a story about a girl who likes a boy, and a boy who likes a girl, a story that can go multiple ways, in most cases at least. There’s scenario one; the boy likes the girl and the girl likes the boy back, easy as it is, they start dating and love each other till the end. No drama, no interferences in their relationship, just love and good luck. A dream, right? Then you also have scenario two; the boy likes the girl, the girl doesn’t like the boy, the boy tries but fails and they both end up liking someone else. Sure, it would be a heartbreak for the boy, but he’d eventually move on and have a happy life. The same goes the other way around, obviously, when the girl likes the boy but the boy doesn’t like the girl.

However, there’s one more scenario, a situation that has happened to Lando Norris, a brown haired, 22 year old boy from Bristol, who occasionally drives a very fast car all over the world. He loved racing, it was one of his passions ever since he was a child. He was fast too, nonetheless, and was clever in his mind, because he had to think of every word he spoke whenever they asked him a question, especially about you.

See, that one scenario, the kind of odd scenario, still has to be discussed. It’s a scenario in which the boy and the girl, at first, don’t like each other, but are very close to each other. It’s more of a elongation of scenario two, in which the boy likes a girl, but that girl doesn’t like him, anymore.

‘’I fucking hate her.’’ Lando was packing his clothes, roughly, throwing his orange McLaren hoodie in, not even taking the time to fold it, because he had to see her, he had to ask her, know, maybe even not know. His shoes weren’t even tied, because he couldn’t wait, no, he had to see her now. ‘’Lando, wait, maybe there’s an explanation, don’t rush things now.’’ Max Fewtrell, one of Lando’s best friends from childhood stood in the doorframe, one foot crossed over the other, as he watched the Brit furiously pack his stuff.

Lando scoffed, but did not pause packing, pair of boxers, joggers, a white shirt and some socks. He then walked over to the bathroom, gathering the essentials; toothbrush, toothpaste, Moroccan argan oil for his curly hair, a brush. ‘’Mate-‘’

‘’Don’t ‘mate’ me, Max, I fucking saw the pictures, alright? You’re not telling me this’’ he said as he grabbed his phone from his pocket, opening it by the face recognition – groaning as his phone at first didn’t recognize his face, but it did at the second try – and revealing the picture that had been scattered all over the internet by now.

Max looked at the picture, and a sigh escaped his lips as he moved to the side when Lando forced his way back to the bedroom, pushing his toiletry bag in the suitcase before zipping it right up. He was mad, pissed, but mostly heartbroken, because the one thing he hoped wouldn’t happen to him, happened, and it hurt.

‘’She’s calling.’’

‘’Don’t answer.’’

‘’But-‘’

‘’Don’t answer.’’

Lando was quick in walking towards Max, grasping the phone out of his hands and his finger pressing the red button without hesitation. ‘’I’m leaving, I’m gonna hear her story, not that I’m buying it, and I’m breaking up with her.’’ Lando didn’t even notice the tear falling from the corner of his right eye, onto his light pink cheek, blushed, because of the stress. Max knew now was not the time to argue with Lando, because he knew Lando had to deal with it on his own way, and he could, he was strong.

Weeks later, and you were walking through the club, a drink in your hand, your phone in the other. You were searching for your friends, because believe it or not, you’d lost them in the middle of this big, fancy club in London. You opened your phone, ready to text or call your friends – not that it would actually be effective though, because the music was blasting so loudly you couldn’t even hear your own thoughts – and that’s when you felt two arms wrapping around you. Your first reaction was pulling away, immediately, but when you heard the familiar voice you calmed down.

‘’For god’s sake Chris! Don’t do that again!’’ You tried to be louder than the music, which was a task on itself, and followed one of your friends to the area your friends had moved to. Once you arrived, you noticed your friends were talking to people, other people, people you didn’t know, yet.

‘’Y/n! There you are! We lost you.’’ You simply smiled at Daisy, one of your friends, and rose your glass a little above your shoulders. ‘’A girl needs to drink too.’’ You smiled, taking a sip of your cocktail.

‘’We made friends, here, introduce yourself.’’ You walked closer to the group of friends, guys, a few of them. You introduced yourself, and so did they, they were fun people, nice to hang out with, chill, good dancers for sure, and handsome too, definitely.

A few drinks later, quite a few actually, and you found yourself on one of the boy’s houses, on the couch, laughing with them, telling stories, talking about life, and it’s obstacles. You felt comfortable, relaxed, at ease. You might blame it on the alcohol, but it was good, fun, something you hadn’t had in a long time because of your performances.

‘’No fucking way you did that!’’ One of the boys laughed after you just told them one of your embarrassing stories you had whilst being on the podium. ‘’Yep, and I was so embarrassed, but I had to keep going.’’ ‘’With the same clothes?’’ ‘’Yep.’’ You laughed.

In the mean time, you had felt an arm on your shoulder, one of the guys, the brown haired one, had his arm placed carefully on the couch behind you a few minutes ago, but it had slipped down to your shoulder while you were telling your story. You didn’t mind, though, he was nice, friendly and good looking.

Everybody had been caught up in a conversation, Chris was talking to Tom and Brenda, Max was in a conversation with Daisy and Paul, some others were grabbing drinks in the kitchen. You were silent, as well as the guy next to you, the guy you had been dancing with in the club, sitting with in the taxi on your way to Tom’s house, and you were now sitting next to, in the slightly dark living room.

‘’You’re pretty.’’ You heard the same guy whisper those words in your ear, his breath hitting the side of your head, a breath that was, even with the amount of alcohol you both had consumed, still filled with a nice scent of peppermint. He was aware of good hygiene, something you could only appreciate.

‘’Thank you, Lando, you are very handsome yourself as well.’’ You turned to look at the guy, maybe it was the alcohol flowing through your system, but you could swear he just winked at you. ‘’Care to go upstairs?’’ He was direct, very direct, and you liked it, because you had been thinking the same thing he had. ‘’Yes.’’

That evening was one to remember, because how it had effected your life, was one to write down in the books. Headlines, everywhere, news, media, Instagram, everybody wanted to know if it was true, did Lando Norris have a relationship with the singer y/n y/l/n, after being seen together in a club, a taxi and outside Tom Bale’s house; all on the same evening, that evening.

‘’Have you spoken to him about this?’’

‘’No, of course not, Daisy, I don’t even have his phone number.’’ You looked up from your phone, another headline about the two of you making it to the #1 trending tweet this week.

‘’Just ask him on Instagram, then.’’ You sighed, biting your lip as you went to Instagram, searching his name in the search bar and pressing on it. Then, at that moment, your heart skipped a beat, since you saw the white text in the blue section.

Follow back

More weeks had passed, and you and Lando decided to ignore the media, because the both of you agreed you weren’t into each other, at least, not to that extend. A boy and a girl, not into each other. Yet.

It was time for Silverstone, the British GP, and you were invited to sing the national anthem, which was a big honour, and good for your career, being able to give it a boost after your well deserved break. Your singing career had been going great, you brought out a few albums, hitting the top hits every time, you were growing, quickly. Creating a decent fanbase, and whether you liked it or not, since that evening with Lando, it grew even more.

‘’y/n?’’ You smiled at the brown haired guy in front of you, giving him a hug when you walked through the paddock with him. ‘’Hi, Lando, surprised to see me?’’ You let out a laugh, smiling at the Brit.

‘’No, I mean, yes, I didn’t know you were coming.’’

‘’Well, I thought I’d surprise you.’’

‘’I like the surprise.’’

‘’Good.’’

One problem, your one time thing with Lando that evening in the middle of London, wasn’t a one time thing anymore. Whenever one of you felt off at night, after you had exchanged phone numbers through Instagram, you and him decided to meet up a few more times, without anyone noticing, because you didn’t want more headlines to cover your for you pages.

No feelings, on either side, yet. It was just a casual, friends-with-benefits situation you never thought you’d find yourself in, and especially not with Lando Norris. But it didn’t bother you, at least not too much, you were getting some action and movements in your life again, feeling that adrenaline whenever you sneaked out of his house the next day, or making sure nobody would see him get into your house in the middle of the night.

It was fun, till Lando found himself in this situation, this scenario, better known as scenario 2, and no, not race-wise scenario’s, but more serious, life scenario’s. Even though you both promised each other, no feelings, it’s not something you can ignore when you actually get them, because you, of all people knew, feelings weren’t something you could control.

‘’You sang beautifully, y/n.’’ You were in the McLaren hospitality, alongside Daniel and Lando, because you knew Lando the best of everyone on the grid, and we all know why and how. ‘’Thanks Daniel, it means a lot.’’ You smiled at the Aussie guy and then looked over at Lando, a sigh escaping your lips. ‘’You alright?’’ You asked, frowning. Lando’s race didn’t go as planned, a DNF to his name because of a engine failure made him be the first, and the only one, to not finish the race.

‘’Yeah, I’m fine.’’ He mumbled and looked down at his hands. You eyed the Australian man, who patted Lando’s back a few times. ‘’Ah don’t worry mate, next time you’ll be up there at the podium again.’’

Later that day, after all the media obligations had been fulfilled, you went to the hotel with Lando, simply because you as well stayed at that hotel, and you wanted to cheer Lando up, in your own ways. The moment you stepped into his hotel room, after making sure nobody saw the two of you go in there together, you smashed your lips against his, feeling your back being pressed against the wall as you and Lando both got rid of your clothes as fast as you could.

‘’I had a feeling this would cheer you up, at least a little bit.’’ You mumbled, your hands moving over his well tanned, muscular and perfect body. However, when he was shirtless, not bottomless yet, and you were standing in your lingerie set in front of him, he took a step back, turning around without looking at you. You were confused, did you do something wrong? Was it your lingerie set? Your breath?

‘’Are you alright?’’ You asked, following him to the bed as he was sitting on top of it, his head resting in his hands, elbows on his knees, creating red circles on his skin. ‘’Lando.’’ You sat next to him, a hand on his back, which made him tense up at first, but relax after. ‘’We can’t do this anymore, y/n.’’ You frowned, what was he talking about? Why did he change his mind all of a sudden? ‘’What?’’

‘’We can’t do this, this, friends with benefits thing anymore.’’ As if the confusion wasn’t enough already, you were completely lost right now.

‘’And why’s that?’’

‘’Just because.’’

‘’Just because what, Lando, don’t you think I deserve an explanation?’’

‘’You do, but I can’t tell you.’’

What the fuck?

‘’Well, you should, because I deserve to know!’’ You were almost raising your voice right now, because you were confused, literally seconds ago you were all over each other, not being able to not touch each other and right now, you were sitting here, feeling rejected, big time.

‘’We made an agreement, didn’t we?’’ He asked, his voice a little bit louder than usual. ‘’We made an agreement and I broke it!’’

He broke it, you weren’t sure of what he was saying, but unconsciously, you knew. ‘’What, you mean you..’’

‘’Yes, I have feelings for you, okay?!’’

Shit.

‘’You do?’’ You carefully sat down, a blanket covering your body, your head rested against the wall behind the bed. You looked at him, his struggle being visible, even from the outside. You knew his past, you knew about his ex, the one that cheated on him. You knew he had to find out through the media, seeing a picture of his – back then – girlfriend, kissing another guy, it’s horrible to experience something like that, and you knew, because it happened to you as well.

‘’Yes, I do, and I’m sorry, because I know it doesn’t come from your side, and I just, I can’t help it.’’ He sighed, and you simply smiled, reaching for his hand.

‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’Lando, you’ve heard my recent song, right?’’ You were playing with his fingers, gently, aligning your fingers with his.

‘’I have, yeah. Why?’’

‘’Listen to it again.’’

(I recommend listening to ‘Unconditionally from Katy Perry’)

You and Lando had grown close, especially the last couple of weeks, months. Sure, you were friends with benefits, but other than that, you knew each other’s deepest secrets, small habits and frustrations. You had become best friends, and you cherished that deeply. You knew every little detail about him, and he knew the same about you. Moments shared together, texting every week, every day almost, but still you denied the fact you were actually falling in love with your best friend. So you wrote it down, your feelings. That was one of the good things about being a singer-songwriter, you were good with words, and right now, you were glad you had released this song a few days ago, because it was something you wrote whilst being in this friend-relationship with Lando.

He listened to the song he put on his phone, really focussing on the lyrics and once it finished, he slowly turned to you, but you weren’t looking at him. ‘’I know it’s hard for you to trust again, Lando.’’ You whispered, your gaze slowly moving to face his. He swallowed, thicky, and let out a sigh, a sigh that felt like it was stuck in his throat for weeks now. ‘’But so do you.’’ He whispered back, a small smile appearing on his face as you intertwined your fingers, holding onto his hand tightly.

‘’But I trust you.’’ You both said it at the same time, making the both of you let out a soft chuckle, Lando moving up to sit closer to you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, just like he did the first night you hung out together.

‘’I want to be with you.’’ He then whispered, close to your ear. ‘’I want to make memories with you, show you guys can be good, help writing songs by creating situations you can write about, I want to take you to every race, support you at your concerts, make you feel loved, happy, yeah, especially that.’’

You turned to look at him, tingling feelings in your stomach, his hand still intertwined with yours, a smile on both your lips. You kissed him, this time not as just friends, but as something more valuable than that, something more meaningful and partially complicated. ‘’Be mine.’’ He whispered against your lips, and you simply nodded in response, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pulled him closer, if that was even possible.

‘’I love you, Lando.’’

‘’I love you too, y/n, unconditionally.’’

270 notes · View notes

imarvelatthestars · 2 months

Text

i think it's 'cause of me

Pairing: Clone Trooper Sister x Lunae Minx; Sister x Dormé

Content: post-breakup angst, non-explicit sex scenes, mention of gender dysphoria & taking hormones/transitioning, referenced infidelity

(i'm a couple days late, i know!! but in my defense, i've been putting school before writing for once. i hope y'all enjoy all the same!)

i. ii. iii. (this is part 3 of a 3-part series, the rest will be posted during the event)

i'm only 17, i don't know anything

but i know i miss you

She’s a wreck and she knows it. She’s been karked in the head since the night she walked out of Lunae’s apartment for the last time, can’t even think straight any time the battalion settles on Coruscant. While her vode are out getting themselves drunk or laid, she’s nursing a broken heart in the barracks and pretending all the while that she wasn’t ever in love.

Cody sees right through her. He gives her what space she needs, but his invitation to join him and the others at 79’s is always open, always subtly offered, no matter how many times she turns him down. He doesn’t suggest that she find another pretty civvy to bury herself in for the night. He doesn’t suggest she drown her sorrows in spotchka. He simply lets her be, and Sister finds herself loving and respecting her brother more than ever before because of it.

Still… She misses her. She misses the touch of skin on skin, the pigmented freckles adorning Lunae’s skin, her laugh, her smile, the feeling of coming home to something, the feeling of belonging to something, to someone. More than anything, Sister misses being missed, wanted. Loved. Fucking Maker, she misses knowing that there was someone in the wide spread of the galaxy that loved her in the way she’d never known she could be loved, never dreamed or dared to wish for. And she hates Lunae for taking that away from her. She hates herself for being foolish enough to think their relationship would end in anything but tears because when she looks back on what once was, she sees every crack in their foundation. She should have known better.

The droids get the worst of it. When the memories hit and she’s caught in the heat of battle, the only thing she can do is unleash hell on every piece of scrap metal that looks her way. She fractures her wrist punching one in the throat and even though the Commander’s upset she went and did something di’kutla, she can tell he’s proud.

It doesn’t dull the ache in her ribs, though, doesn’t stop her from wondering how it all went wrong. How had she failed to measure up? What could she have done differently to make Lunae see that she was worth being loyal to? Why wasn’t she enough? Why wasn’t her love enough?

She wakes up crying sometimes. The boys don’t mention it if they ever notice, but she’s embarrassed all the same. They’re in the middle of a kriffing war and she’s feeling sad because her girlfriend cheated on her? There are more important things to worry about!

But the truth of the matter is that Sister really does miss her. Despite every shitty argument, despite knowing that the first person she’d ever given her heart to had gone and betrayed her – for the fucking senator pushing the Clone Rights Act, no less! – she still wonders if Lunae misses her too. But then she remembers she’s nothing more than a copy-paste soldier in an endless war, and she wonders if she was ever meant for something as simple as love.

Gregor has this irritating habit of thinking everything’s funny, and if he so much as looks at her one more time with that stupid fucking mischievous glint in his eyes, she’s gonna punch him so hard that Fett himself’ll feel it.

“I like it,” he assures her.

Sister doesn’t even bother suppressing her irritation. “Shut up.”

She catches the reflection of his shoulders shaking in the corner of her eye. He’s shaking his head a bit, trying and failing not to smile. “It looks good.”

“Then why are you being a pain in my shebs right now?”

He stands then and the mirror catches it. She pretends she doesn’t see him, pretends to focus solely on her hair, pretends that she cares more about the way her curls are sitting than the fact that her brother can see right through her.

“’cause you’re gonna turn every pretty head when you walk into 79’s and I’m not gonna have anyone t’ talk to.”

“Tchk, whatever, man.”

It’s not that she feels naked without her braids so much as she feels off balance and unsure of herself. Braiding her hair had been one of the first things she’d done to try and ease her dysphoria. Dozens, if not hundreds, of hours had been spent braiding and re-braiding her hair, from the cadet barracks on Kamino to the long hours spent waiting for orders on the bloodied seams of a battlefield to Coruscant – Lunae’s flat, her bedroom, the sofa, fixing her hair after long sieges and exhausting deployments. Now she looks at her reflection in the mirror and sees her hair truly freed from its confines for the first time – shampooed and conditioned to hell and back, her curls slicked into gentler waves that almost hit her collarbones – and she feels overwhelmed.

“Hey.” A hand settles on her bare shoulder, and she comes screaming back to reality. Gregor’s looking at her through the mirror, but his humor is long gone. “Chin up, Sis.”

Pride and panic flood her veins in unison. She’s gone too far to turn back now, but she still can’t help feeling nauseous. She can clear a platoon of droids no problem, but it’s going out to a bar in civvy clones that makes her nervous. Go figure.

When Gregor’s hand drops, she rolls her shoulders back a bit, tilts her chin up, and fixes her reflection with a cool expression. Totally at ease. Unaffected. Confident. She can do this. She can do this. She wants to do this.

The reflection’s throat bobs uncertainly. “Let’s get this over with.”

Word got out ages ago that other bars were clone friendly, but none of them have ever been as popular as 79’s. That’s just fine. Going to 79’s dressed like this, all bare skin in a sleek, silky dress and painted with cosmetics? She’d never live it down. But there’s a queer bar a few levels down – Mando owned and run, cheap enough for a soldier without official pay to buy a drink or two, and far, far away from the memories of Lunae Minx shoving her into a supply closet and giving her the most mind-blowing orgasm she’d ever experienced.

Funnily enough, Gregor’s the one who gets the most attention. A handful of handsome patrons have bought him drinks and he’s taken each one with a smile and a wink. Either he’s in way over his head or he’s thrown caution to the wind.

“Haven’t seen you here before.”

Sister turns toward the voice and finds herself face-to-face with a truly beautiful woman. It’s not the rich navy hue of her dress shirt that catches her eye, though, or the way her dark hair falls over one shoulder, not even the dimpling of her cheeks, but the broad span of this woman’s shoulders and the clear definition of well-built muscles straining beneath the fabric. Heat immediately flares to life across her entire face and sears its way down to her sternum as she tries and fails not to flounder like a fish under this woman’s attention.

The woman’s eyes are smoldering as they flicker up and down Sister’s dress, branding her skin every inch of the way with blatant interest. “I’m Cara. Can I buy you another?”

It takes an embarrassingly long time for her to realize that she’s staring. Immediately, she ducks her head. “Yeah. I’d like that,” she says, somehow managing to avoid tripping over her words.

Another drink is soon slid across the bar and Cara sits on the empty barstool to her left. Her thighs spread wide as she lounges, which only draws Sister’s eyes to the apex between them, how her muscles soften and squish, and she nearly chokes on her liquor. She really needs to reign it in.

“So what’s your story?”

She only pauses for a moment, but it seems to stretch on forever. Does Cara recognize her? Does she realize she’s a clone? Her body’s changed since she started hormones, but some things like the shape of her jaw or the breadth of her ribcage are hard to ignore. Does Cara see those things too? It’s a dance she’s never had to practice before because all the barrack bunnies that frequent 79’s know she’s one of the clones and they never seem to care. Here, though, it’s different. Unknown. And a little terrifying.

“I’m, uh, I’m new to the area,” is the response she finally settles on, and it’s not entirely a lie. She’s never ventured this many levels down before. “Thought I’d see what all the fuss is about.”

One corner of Cara’s mouth quirks into a smile, brief but telling. She takes a sip of her own drink and Sister finds herself staring at Cara’s fingers as they curl around the glass. “You got a name?”

“Sister,” she says before she can even stop to think better of it.

“‘Sister’?” Cara’s curiosity and gentle laughter makes her cringe on instinct. “That’s a new one.”

This is the moment where it all comes crashing down, she’s sure, but instead, mercifully, Sister finds herself being pleasantly surprised.

“I hope you don’t mind if I call you something else?”

Her stomach twists. “Like what?”

One dimpled cheek becomes two, and suddenly the only thing that exists in the whole galaxy right now is the two of them and the alcohol burning its way down her throat. “Mine for the night?”

It’s a short ride from the bar to the flat, but Sister hardly notices it. All she can focus on are the broad planes of muscle beneath Cara’s leather jacket and the scent of her perfume, the way her thighs tense when the speeder bike takes a sharp turn and she’s thrown upon her back. There’s no promise of a future in Cara’s bed, no expectation for love or permanence, or anything more than to be a woman seeking pleasure at the hands of another. It’s enough.

It’s the only kind of therapy she can afford and, somehow, it works. Sister stops worrying so much about love when she’s in the arms of a stunning new woman who makes her brain short circuit every time she’s planetside. And eventually, she stops thinking about Lunae, too.

Waxer dies on Umbara. Gregor goes missing after the Battle of Sarrish. Cody’s face grows harder with every loss. The war continues on. Brothers die every day, and Sister’s heart mends itself little by little. She takes what scraps of tenderness the galaxy affords her and she keeps them close, treasures them when no one is looking. It’s enough, it has to be.

And then, inspired by a streak of hope and idiocy, she steps back into 79’s and finds herself frozen in horror, lost in the aftermath of her broken heart when she spots Lunae at the bar, chatting with a vod from the 501st and the pretty girl draped all over him. She sees red at first, then her hearing goes spotty. All these months of enjoying Coruscant night life and managing to avoid her ex, and the one night she dares to come back home, to the bar meant for her and her brothers, and Lunae’s there.

She’s fucking seething. This girl has the audacity to flirt her way through this bar like she did the night they met? How many clones has she snagged in Sister’s absence? How many of them has she tugged into that supply closet so she could get on her knees and-?

“Hey, vod, you good?” one of the boys, probably Boil, asks with a nudge to her ribs.

She doesn’t even have it in her to answer. All she does is stumble her way through the crowd, blinded to everything save the violet Twi’lek in the shimmering dress.

Months’ worth of hateful, bitter words are swelling on Sister’s tongue. Dozens of vile insults the likes of which she’s only ever hurled at droidekas and Seppie commanders are flinging themselves against the inside of her skull in some desperate attempt to pummel Lunae’s cheery deposition with their animosity. And she could do it, too. She’d have every right to. Not all of them know, but many of her vode guessed what was going on with Lunae from day one. They wouldn’t judge her for a break in her control, a moment to show her exactly what she’d missed out on by choosing to fuck someone else behind her back, but… well, Sister would judge herself for it.

Because this isn’t a battlefield. This isn’t life and death. This is damaged pride and a wounded heart lashing out in anger. What’s done is done, and they both know it. There’s no glory in beating an enemy when they’re down, and berating Lunae in front of the entirety of 79’s would be just that. So, rather than beeline straight for her, Sister chooses the quickest and easiest way out, and heads for the very entrance she just came through.

The platform outside is the same as it was minutes ago when she first arrived. She hurries to the docking zone and hails a taxi, and she waits. Her arms are folded around her stomach as if she were cold, but it’s all an act. She suddenly feels quite ill. Maybe going out today was a bad idea. Maybe she outta haul her sorry ass back to the barracks and-

“Sister!”

Dank fucking farrik.

Her name’s called a second time, then a third, and when she finally chooses to acknowledge it, she turns to see the Minx herself rushing through the clump of patrons. Normally pale cheeks have gone a dusty lavender and her lekku are, for lack of a better word, limp down her back. Sister recognizes it as a show of meekness.

“I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” the girl huffs between breaths, and the peculiar choice of words makes her frown.

“What do you want?”

Lunae looks caught between expressing her irritation and her shame, and it comes across as an awkward twisting of her sweet, soft face that borders on downright painful. It’s not a look Sister’s sure she’s ever seen on her before.

“Can we… talk?”

Sister restrains from outright laughing in her face, but she does exhale a good deal heavier than usual. “I’m heading back to the barracks, so you better make it quick.”

“Oh.” Dark fluttering eyelashes sweep across the apple of her cheeks as she ducks her head. The movement prompts one of her lekku to slip over her shoulder and down her arm.

For a moment, it’s as if nothing has changed; the light dapples prettily on Lunae’s skin and Sister’s heart clenches and they can both almost convince themselves that there’s something worth fighting for here. But there’s not, and there’s no sense in pretending otherwise. The moment passes, and Sister feels her eyes start to sting when a particularly cool gust of wind hits her face just right.

Her arms cross tightly over her chest now. “Well?”

“I just, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. For everything.”

She wonders absently whether it’s started snowing on Mustafar lately, or perhaps Hoth has melted into a ball of fire.

“I’m not with her anymore. Riyo? You were right, you know. She didn’t deserve that.” Her dark eyes fix on Sister. “Neither did you.”

There’s so much she could say. How could you? Fuck you. I hate you. You broke my heart. I hope she broke yours too. Do you ever miss me? Did you ever love me? But she doesn’t say any of it.

“I know,” she says instead, and it’s the truth.

Lunae, however, appears to read between the lines of her response and find things Sister wasn’t even aware were there. “I miss you,” she proclaims, as if it were some profound and holy thing. “I’ve been thinking about you. I thought, maybe we could be friends?”

And Maker knows, Sister could say the same. She could accept this apology for what it is and let Lunae come crawling back into her life, reopening all the old wounds that have fought so hard to heal. The scar tissue isn’t even solid yet. She knows what taking Lunae back would do to her, she can see it clear as day. She can see the sleepless nights spent yearning for something that’ll kill her in the end, perhaps not physically, but the pain of it would kill her spirit and leave her empty in its wake. She can feel the agony of wanting Lunae to take her back and kiss her and hold her and say just how sorry she really is, how she’ll never do it again, how they’ll be happy and together the way they were always meant to be, and she knows that it will all be empty because Lunae betrayed her trust. And that trust can never be earned back.

Some foolish, naïve part of her wants to say yes. The part of her that knows better, that sees the enemy lurking in the shadows of this offer, says no.

“You made your choice, Lunae,” she says just as a taxi speeder comes zooming up to the platform. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. “Now I’m making mine. Don’t ask me ever again. We’re done.”

There’s a knowing settling deep inside her bones, curling up within her marrow. This is the last time they’ll ever see each other. It hurts. It leaves a blade mark across the underside of her heart, and it’s clear it does the same to Lunae, but the pain is worth it. She has to believe that.

The taxi roars to life and carries her into the nearest skylane, and Sister never looks back. And she never regrets it.

Coruscant fabricates a sunny morning the day they meet. There’s a massive vote going through the Senate and several Senators have received threats, enough that the Guard can’t safely watch all of them. While the rest of the 212th fights off-world, the 7th Sky Corps allocates some of its forces to the Senate Dome with a few men from the 104th to accompany them.

Dormé Polastie is running to the Senate with urgent news for Senator Amidala, her skirts bundled in her hands and her attention fixed solely on the placement of one foot in front of the other.

Clone Trooper Sister is rounding a corner as she finishes sending a transmission to Commander Fox, giving the all-clear for her sector. The blind spot in her helmet means she doesn’t see the other woman until it’s too late.

They hit each other hard, limbs flying akimbo while plastoid and pricey silks go skidding across the duracrete. Sister loses her helmet and her skull narrowly misses cracking against the floor, saved only by the mass of armor under her back that elevates her neck and shoulders. The handmaiden falls into a heap of fabric beside her. It’s no Seppie attack, but it’s a surprise all the same and it knocks the wind out of them both.

Blazing, bright sunlight and the too-dazzling reflection of it against durasteel and transparisteel is almost enough to blind Sister when she starts to stagger onto her feet. Dormé’s smile finishes the job beautifully.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she exclaims as she sits up. Her elegant hairstyle is ruffled now, with several loose strands hanging past her ears, but she doesn’t seem too bothered by it. She takes Sister’s hand and allows her to haul her to her feet. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

If she is, she has no way of knowing. The only thing Sister’s even remotely aware of is the way this woman’s eyes sparkle and the gentle curve of her smile. For a Republic soldier, she’s embarrassingly disarmed.

It takes her a moment, but she eventually finds her bearings. “I’m alright, ma’am. My apologies. I didn’t see you coming.”

“Neither did I.”

Whatever else is said, Sister has no recollection of. She knows she stammers her way through a polite conversation, she knows she’s given a name to go with the face (one remarkably similar to Senator Amidala’s), and she knows she’s able to recover her helmet, though how it all happens remains shrouded in mystery.

She dwells on Dormé’s kind eyes and enchanting smile long after that first meeting. She carries the memory with her into battle, then halfway across the galaxy, taking that memory out when the going gets rough and pretending that there’s something good and decent and beautiful still worth fighting for, even if that something doesn’t even remember that she exists.

She remembers her so fondly and so often that, rather than dress up and drag herself down to the bars the moment she returns to Coruscant, Sister finds herself wandering the streets in the Senatorial District, helmet off and propped against her hip in the hopes that she might be easily recognized should she pass a certain civilian. When that effort turns out to be fruitless, she goes out on a limb and volunteers a few rotations with the 501st. If she can get near enough to Skywalker, then Amidala’s bound to be around, and with no small amount of luck and desperate hope, she might even find Dormé again.

That doesn’t work either, and Sister starts worrying that she’s taking this fixation a little too far. It was just a chance meeting, a brief crossing of their lives for a fleeting moment, something to help her push through the bitterness of the war, but never meant to be anything more than a happy memory.

Let it be, she tells herself. Just move on.

She never expected to find the one person she was searching for in the same filthy, crowded bar where she met Lunae all that time ago. It’s a clone bar, it’s not meant for people like her – politicians, natborns, normal people. It’s a place for soldiers to unwind and barrack bunnies to get their fill of handsome young men in the prime of their (notably short and genetically modified) lives. Yet 79’s is where she finds her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She’s so taken aback that she forgets to be couth about it.

Dormé is rightfully taken aback by the abrasive tint to the question, but she doesn’t immediately reply. She chooses instead to study Sister under the flashing neon lights, to trace her eyes over the marks on her armor, the streaks of paint, the frizzy top knot tied atop her head, and whatever she sees seems to please her. When she’s had her fill of looking, she takes a sip of the brightly colored drink in her glass and smiles. “I was looking for you,” she says, so quietly that it’s nearly impossible to hear her.

Nearly, but not entirely.

Sister almost falls over. “You what?” Her bucket smacks against the bar top as she hops onto one of the barstools.

Uncertainty washes over the handmaiden’s face for the first time. “Is that alright?”

She laughs. What else can she do?

“Are you kidding? I’ve been lookin’ for you. How long have you been waiting here?”

Dormé shrugs as her eyes flit away. “It’s only my third night.”

Three nights? She’s been dealing with drunken clones and shitty booze for three nights, and she’s still here? All for her? That doesn’t make sense.

“Must be pretty brave if you’re willing to field wasted soldiers for three nights in a row,” is the nicest way she can think to express her disbelief, given the circumstances.

“Mm. Or stubborn,” and her face flashes with mischief.

Sister grins. “I think I like you more every second.”

The night doesn’t end in the supply closet tucked into the far back of a clone bar. It ends the way it might if they had met in another time and place. Sister has her comm number scrawled on a napkin that’s tucked beneath her chest plate. Dormé smiles and flushes when she kisses her cheek. “Don’t be a stranger,” she says, and Sister swears not to, and she beams all the way back to the barracks. The night ends the way love should when it isn’t expedited – slow and tender and full of promise.

“Welcome home.” Dormé says it each time Sister returns from deployment, accentuated with a candy-sweet kiss and the best smile in the galaxy. “I missed you.”

And every time, Sister takes her lover’s hand, presses her lips to her palm, and says with her actions what her words aren’t yet ready to say. “I love you” is written into every caress, every glance, every single word she utters. “Missed you, too, cyare. I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

Dark eyes glitter happily at her. “It doesn’t matter how long you’re gone,” she sighs, “just so long as you come back to me.”

Not even Grievous himself could keep her away.

“Let me shower, yeah? I smell like a kriffin’ Venator.”

“Should I join you?”

Oh, how she adores her fiery little minx as she tucks herself into Sister’s side with pink cheeks and eager hands. “Missed me that much, did you?” Dormé makes a big show of protesting the accusation, but they both know it’s true. “That’s alright, baby. I can take care of you.”

By the time they finish, the shower’s lost all its hot water and night has settled over Coruscant. Her armor is clustered in as neat a pile as can be managed atop the small desk Dormé had gifted her when she first moved in – a home for the most valuable thing she owns, the only thing she owns apart from herself. After months of bunking with her vode, marching through dirt and muck and wallowing in the sterile scent of space, laying back on a real mattress with real silk sheets feels as close to heaven as a clone could ever get.

She drifts in and out of consciousness as Dormé sets to work lathering her skin in some lightly fragrant lotion, paying careful attention to her elbows, knees, feet, and hands. “You need better gloves,” she frowns as she surveys Sister’s calluses.

“You’ll have to take that up with the GAR, love. I don’t think it’s high on their list of priorities right now.”

It’s not until the night has fully advanced into early morning, when Sister is still struggling to fall asleep, caught between replaying her last mission and the moment mere hours ago when Dormé sank down upon her and whimpered, moaned, and begged until they tumbled off their shared precipice hand in hand, that she finds herself thinking of what her life had been once. Building a home with the first girl she ever loved, kissing her pretty lekku each night before bed, dozing in her arms, feeling like she’d found her place only to have it ripped away by the cruelest stroke of irony. After all that time daydreaming about the future she might one day have with the woman she loved, it strikes her that that woman was Dormé all along. But when she watches her lover snore softly in the bed they share, she knows she wouldn’t have it any other way. When she dreams now, she dreams of peachy-pink skin and long, dark hair, of a life without war or death, just her and Dormé and a lifetime of hope - she dreams of coming home.

slept next to her, but

i dreamt of you all summer long

star wars femslash february 2024

day 15: growth/homecoming

@starwarssapphicweek

page dividers by @saradika-graphics

#clone trooper sister x lunae minx #clone trooper sister x dormé #clone trooper sister #lunae minx #dormé #star wars #swfsf2024 #star wars wlw #sapphic star wars #when you are young they assume you know nothing #can..... can you tell sister is one of my favorite characters #can you tell is it obvious :)

3 notes · View notes

local-starry-catboi · 27 days

Text

ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴱᵃᵗᵉʳ

DO NOT REPOST, REUSE OR CLAIM MY ART AS YOURS IN ANY WAY OR I'LL BREAK YOUR LEGS! :) ♡

This cvnty guy is Reno, one of the OCs I have had since like a decade (I'm old, let me be ;^;); And especially since I've had him for such a long time already, I haven't been satisfied with his design for like 2 years?

So now I've finally decided to give this guy a redesign, so he, too, can finally serve 💅🏼✨️

Playlist:

Can be found on Spotify:

Fandom info:

(Everything under the cut for length)

CW/TW: Mentions of child abuse and cheating, cigarettes/smoking, drinking

General Info (subject to change depending on the fandom) :

Name: Tiger Reno (タイガー • レノ, Taigā Reno)

Name meaning: "the Dark/Brown", "the Advisor", and "the Rebirthed"

Epithet: Dream Eater

Age: 26 / 28

Birthday: 25.03.XX (Aries)

Birthplace: Barcelona, Cataluña, Spain

Height: 1,96m / 1,99m

Weight: 87kg / 86kg

Handedness: Right

Gender: Male (ENG: he/him | JP: ore-sama)

Orientation: Omnisexual, poly tendencies

Nicknames: Chilihead, Red, Spikes, Punk, McDreamy

Status: Alive

Personality:

Reno's a pretty humorous and fun-loving party animal. He loves going on adventures, setting out without hesitation to try even the wildest water slides or attend the most chaotic parties. Whilst often being somewhat responsible, he can also completely let go of said sense of responsibility. He loves laughing his ass off, drinking until morning comes, accepting all the serotonin any of these activities give him. This often leads to him taking even the silliest bets, no matter how they will end and what he'd get from them.

The redhead dislikes having to deal with boredom and tries to find as quick as possible some way to occupy himself in some way. At least he's amazing at striking up a conversation (unlike when having to calm down an angry or crying woman).

Although he may not always let on, Reno actually is intellectual - even above average, and so he enjoys a good game of chess at least once a day. This also shows in his actions, such as thinking before acting and his cunning in various situations and negotiations. Another point in how his intelligence is noticeable is Reno being habitually late. Although he's the organized type of guy, this does not reflect what his room looks like. Technically, Reno is a disciplined and careful young man. His foster father raised him in his biological father’s place (as per his request since he couldn't be by his son's side all the time) to be responsible, polite, and supportive.

It happens often that he forgets to be polite and patient. He can turn cold like ice and become a mean jerk quickly if you push the right buttons even though he normally is pretty tough to provoke.

Similarly, thanks to his mother, it takes Reno a lot of time to trust someone. He developed trust issues because of her abusing him when he still lived with her as a child, even though he wasn't responsible for what she did to their family. Due to her personality, he developed a tendency to be sneaky and not wear his heart on his sleeve. Dream Eater is still learning about things like relationships as he claims himself to be "not made for them", thus not necessarily seeking out a partner for life.

Thanks to his father’s blood in his veins, he's gifted with a high self-confidence - sometimes a bit too much, though. His ego sometimes quickly is hurt because of different things. Besides this, Reno is a cool, tough guy with lots of charisma. In addition to this, he simply doesn't know how to deal with angry women because of Serena. This way, he developed the "habit" of withdrawing into a "safe area" and being alone.

Archetypes: Chaotic Neutral, ENTP

Fears:

Being unable to see his father ever again

Athazagoraphobia (Fear of being unwanted)

Hobbies/Interests:

Adventuring

Amusement parks

Bets (no matter how stupid)

Fashion

Chess

Habits:

Unbelievably bad cook

Messy eater

Fiddles with his hair when in thoughts

Easily forgets names (gives stupid nicknames on occasion)

Heavy drinker and smoker

Habitually fashionably late

Heavyweight drinker

High libido

Voice Actors:

German: René Dawn-Claude

English: Max Mittelman

Spanish: Kayn

Korean: Shin Yong-woo

Chinese: Ma Yang

Japanese: Miyano Mamoru

Family: (some names subject to change in the future)

Serena (mother, alive)

Agni (father, alive)

Beth (half-sister, alive)

Acacia (grandmother, deceased)

Dawn (grandfather, deceased)

Juniper (aunt, alive)

Ivy (aunt, alive)

Relationship Status: Taken

Girlfriend: Ito Hikari / Yūna (belongs to @saliacos)

Likes:

Spicy food

Pretty girls

Amusement parks

Water slides

Tigers

His gf's singing voice

Dislikes:

Sour food

Bitches

Boredom

Low-quality alcohol

Pissed/crying girls

His mother

Favourite Food: Chili

Least Favourite Food: Anything sour

Favourite Colour: Red

Favourite Season: Summer

Animal Resemblance: Tiger

Representative Flower: Red roses, phlox

Languages: Spanish, English

Specific Number: 6

Scent: Alcohol and cigarettes ; covers it with exotic perfumes with mango and chili notes

Nationality: Spanish

Occupation: Martial arts teacher (side gig) ; bassist of a punk rock band (main job)

Skills/Talents:

Strategic thinking ; also capable of immediately adapting plans mid-battle

Profiling ; analzying people based on how they act whilst he's watching them

Explosives ; raised and trained by his foster father, he learned how to craft various types of explosives

Trivia:

He can calculate the total of any items put in a shopping cart and tax to within 0.5€/¥/$

Reno is rarely seen without a cigarette between his lips or his flask in hand.

He can resist the burning effect of chilis even with a high amount of scoville for at least one hour.

One Piece:

Birthyear: 1486

Affiliation: Revolutionary Army

Occupation: Revolutionary, tactician (Sabo's vice/right hand)

Bounty: 470.000.000 Berry (Dead or Alive)

Birthplace: Sabaody Archipelago, Red Line

Devil Fruit: Yume Yume no Mi (Dream Dream Fruit)

Type: Paramecia

Strengths:

Can be used on up to three people (pre awakening) / on as many people as are looking at him (post awakening)

Useful if stealth is required

Can be used in a harmless manner, too, not just for offense

Most effective in early morning hours and in the dead of night

Weaknesses:

Sea water + Kairoseki (standard DF weaknesses)

Drains stamina through required focus if used on more than one person

Darkness/too dimly lit places

Useless in direct combat because it's more of a support thing

Devil Fruit Attacks:

Sleep Induction: Induces drowsiness or sleep in targets, rendering them temporarily unconscious or lethargic. This can be used for stealthy infiltration or to incapacitate foes non-lethally.

Dream Manipulation: Manipulates the dreams of his targets, either by creating vivid illusions or altering existing dreams to influence their behaviour or perceptions.

Lucid Nightmare: Implants a false sense of reality into the minds of targets, causing them to lose touch with their surroundings and potentially harming themselves or their allies in confusion.

Dream Shield: Creates a protective barrier made of dreams, which can deflect physical attacks or serve as a shield against mental attacks and illusions. (Post awakening)

Dream Mirage: Creates illusions of themselves or others, confusing his opponents and allowing for strategic maneuvers or escapes.

Dream Transfer: Transfers dreams between individuals, either sharing positive dreams to uplift allies or burdening enemies with nightmares to weaken their resolve.

Dream Extraction: Extracts specific dreams or memories from his targets, gaining valuable information or using extracted dreams as a source of power.

Dream Amplification: Amplifies the dreams or desires of his targets, intensifying their emotions or motivations to either inspire allies or manipulate enemies.

Dream Illusionary Army: Creates illusions of allies or monsters made entirely of dreams, which can confuse opponents and overwhelm them with sheer numbers.

Skills/Talents:

Huxingquan (Tiger Style of kung fu) — mastered ; Style focuses on strength, agility, and low kicks (Reno uses high kicks, too, though, occasionally)

Dragon Claw �� Advanced level (pre TS) - mastered (post TS) ; he's been training in it since coming to the Revos 19 years ago

Scaring opponents off with a single piercing glance

Dragon Claw Attacks:

Shatter (leaves the victim's bones shattered)

Tiger Claw (user forms hands to tiger claws, using the Huxingquan style)

Faint (faint attack, can be combined with any other attack as a follow-up)

Haki — Awakened:

Busōshoku/Armament: Advanced level (pre TS) - mastered (post TS)

Kenbunshoku/Observation: Advanced level (pre TS) - mastered (post TS)

Preferred Weapons:

Explosives

Fists/bare hands

Family:

Serena (mother, alive)

Tiger Agni (father, alive)

Slavick (foster father, alive — OC belongs to @butchersniece)

Sketa (foster sister, alive — OC belongs to @butchersniece)

Beth (half-sister, alive)

Svaja (half-sister, alive — OC belongs to @saliacos)

Tiger Acacia (grandmother, deceased)

Tiger Dawn (grandfather, deceased)

Tiger Juniper (aunt, alive)

Tiger Ivy (aunt, alive)

Familial Background:

They have various occupations, such as Revolutionaries, Marine soldiers, pirates, merchants, florists, journalists, etc.

Most of them have a close relationship to each other, including always being there for the other family members despite their differences. They're simply a normal family after all. The only actual bad blood there is is between the Tiger family and Serena's.

Character Background:

Reno was born and partially raised on Sabaody. He was six when Agni learnt that his wife had been cheating on him and abusing their child, with Serena consequently also throwing him out. Not wanting to stay with the fury of a 'mother' and her lover Gabriel, the boy ran out to try and close up with his father, but they got separated in the crowd. He was found by an old friend of his father’s, Slavick. He took Reno with him to their HQs, where he joined the Revolutionary Army and began his training as Slavick's adoptive father and disciple.

After a few years, he also met Sketa, to whom he had a rather tense relationship, without due to her having betrayed her cousin Slavick. On the contrary, he grew rather close with Hikari (who'd later become his girlfriend), Sabo, and Koala.

Until the events of Dress Rosa, Reno had always been searching for Agni, wishing to tell him about the incidents with his mother for the sake of his inner peace. Per coincidence (a mission assigned to both of them individually from one another), they reunited on Doflamingo's island, developing their father-son relationship anew.

Reno isn't aware that he actually has gotten two half-sisters at this point and thus considers only Agni, Slavick, and a handful of the other Revos as his family.

Favourite Season: Summer on a summer island

Den Den Mushi: Fire red with a yellow-orange house

Tokyo Revengers:

Name: Toragari Reno (虎狩レノ)

Meaning: Toragari = tiger hunt

Age: 16 (2005) / 18 (2008) / 28 (2018)

Birthyear: 1990

Languages: Japanese, Spanish, English

Occupation: High school student, delinquent (vice leader), yakuza (rotten timelines), martial artist & instructor (Revenge timeline)

Backstory:

Reno was born in his family home back in Barcelona, Spain. His family is filled with all kinds of people with great diversity. There are gang members, soldiers, "normal" folks like retail workers, florists, journalists and such. Most of them have a close relationship with each other, and the only ones who do not live in the same home as them are Fudo and Reno. Regardless of their distance, they're always there for the other family members despite their occasional differences. They're simply a normal family after all, albeit they do have their black sheep as well.

Still being a couple at that time, Serena and Fudo raised Reno together. The boy was six years old when his father left the family's flat in Tokyo after finding out that she had been cheating on him for quite a long time and also abused their child. The man even wasn't allowed to take their son with them but promised he'd come to take him to his new place when the right time came. As Serena's "new" lover Gabriel (Beth's father) moved in on the same day, the young boy didn't want to stay with his disloyal, mean fury of a mother anymore, hoping to get to his father in time. Reno knew about the woman cheating on Fudo but wasn't allowed to tell him about that.

The small kid was found later (after he had lost his dad somewhere in the crowd) by Zou Yijun and a few other gang members. The former just grabbed the boy and took him with the group on their way to their next destination. The other members recognised him as Fudo's son. Back at the headquarters, he joined the gang. So, the young boy became Yijun's foster son and disciple. Yijun and his younger cousin Chun allowed him to live at their place, which probably led to Reno picking up some of their habits, not all of them positive. He started smoking and drinking early, and equally early got tattoos and piercings, but he also learnt how to defend himself and others and how to use his brains for the better.

He was around in his first year of middle school when he met his new best friend Kurihara Ikuya. The boy didn't judge him for being affiliated with thugs, and instead, the older boy asked him if the two of them wanted to form their own gang. Kurihara knew a few guys who were pretty good fighters, so he invited them along. Eventually, unlike some other middle school gangs, Harlekin was formed more on a whim. Being one of the four founding members, he was voted as Ikuya's right hand. Together, the group got into fights, committed smaller petty crimes, and would become slower but steadily.

The further their reputation grew, the more boys requested joining the gang. It took them less than a whole year to become large enough to have almost 300 members. He had become close friends with some of their fellow gangmates, as well as a handful of their allies.

Over the years, Toragari had the honours of making acquaintances with the Haitani Brothers, Hanma Shuji, Ōkami "Poltergeist" Satoru, Akutagawa "Trickster" Ayumu, and even the infamous Empress of Meguro, Baji Shinju, Kurokawa Izana, and a handful of other big shots. Among others, they're allies of the Black Dragons.

In most rotten futures - albeit unaffected by the evil Tokyo Manji Gang's actions - Harlekin turns into a yakuza clan, mostly due to multiple factors: Yijun's influence as well as their greater tendency to chase after more infamy, power and knowledge. They broadened their range of influence by engaging in all kinds of crimes, most of which led them to being blacklisted. To keep up appearances, they'd appear as salesmen for insurances or anything sponsoring sports events.

In the "perfect" Revenge future, however, Reno ends up becoming a professional MMA fighter, who is trained by and instructs others for Imaushi Wakasa and Arashi Keizou at their martial arts academy

Official Character Book:

His image colour is orange.

His dream is having as much fun as possible in his life.

The person he respects is Yijun.

The person he dislikes or fears is Serena.

He likes bets.

He dislikes boredom.

His heroic or failure story: Reno is an unbelievably bad cook. Nobody lets this man into the kitchen for something else than coffee. He would literally blow up the entire place. One time, he tried to make mac and cheese and failed miserably. Yijun had to call the firefighters to put out the blazing flames at 3 in the morning.

His favourite food is chilis.

Reno's special skill is that he can resist the burning effect of chilis even with a high amount of scoville for at least one hour.

His favourite spot is at the amusement parks.

A daily activity of a certain day (from morning till bedtime): On Saturdays, he gets up around noon, has 'breakfast', takes a bath, gets dressed, heads out to attend a gang meeting in the afternoon, comes back at an ungodly hour after going to the discotheque, drops into bed and falls asleep.

His disliked food is everything sour.

From the question "Who do you want to be your lover?", Reno is ranked number 1 from Top 3 Best Boyfriends.

From the question "Who do you want to marry?", Reno is ranked number 3 from Top 3 Husbands.

His favourite hobby is finding new thrills.

Reno's motorcycle is a Yamaha R15.

Genshin Impact:

Name: Reno Namir

Meaning: Namir = tiger

Nationality: Sumerun/Natlan (born and grew up in Sumeru ; his mother was exiled from Natlan)

Settled Nation: Fontaine

Home: Fleuve Cendre (since having served his sentence in Meropide)

Affiliation: Dakan Al-Ahmar/Eremites (formerly), Spina di Rosula

Vision Case: Sumeru

Rarity: 5 Star

Element: Electro

Weapon: Bow (visualised as pistol with bombs)

Banner: Sparks of Burning Passion

Constellation: Glabriusculum

Special Dish: None (can't cook ; see Raiden Shogun)

Favourite Dish: Gilded Tajine (besides raw chili)

Combat Info:

Normal Attack - Blitz Assault

Performs up to 6 consecutive shots with a pistol and throwing explosives, automatically shooting the last bomb to explode it and deal increased DMG and apply Burn status.

Gameplay note: The sequence of attacks is bullet > explosive > bomb > bullet > bullet > bomb and bullet simultaneously.

Gameplay note: Despite being an Electro character, his explosives deal Pyro DMG, the normal shots dealing Physical DMG.

Charged Attack: Performs a more precise Aimed Shot with increased DMG. Throws a single bomb into the direction he is facing, and while aiming, crackling lightning will accumulate on the 'mouth' (at the fuse of the explosives) before the 'arrow' is fired.

Gameplay note: Upon entering the Aimed Mode, it may appear as if the opponent's Movement SPD is slowed, but is actually just the case for the mode change animation.

Gameplay note: Aimed Shots deal purely Electro DMG once charged if the bomb isn't hit. If it is hit, however, Overloaded will be triggered, dealing the corresponding DMG to the targeted opponents.

Plunging Attack: Fires off a shower of projectiles in mid-air before falling and striking the ground, dealing AoE DMG upon impact and knocking back any nearby opponents.

Gameplay note: He ends up amidst the explosion, partially losing HP upon landing, and being applied with Burn status. This effect can be countered if he is shielded.

Elemental Skill - Cluster

Reno throws out a line of grenades that explode after 5s, dealing moderate Pyro DMG to enemies whilst applying Burn status. Starts with 2 charges.

Elemental Burst - Stun Grenade

Reno fires an explosive shell dealing heavy Pyro DMG to the enemy it hits. After hitting them or reaching the end of its range, the shell explodes, dealing Electro DMG in a cone.

Talents:

1st Ascension Passive - Shock Treatment

After using Cluster, Reno's Normal and Charged Attacks deal 30% increased DMG for 6s. This effect can stack up to 3 times.

4th Ascension Passive - Explosive Speed

Reno receives increased Movement SPD and Attack SPD by 18% whenever he kills an enemy. This effect can stack up to 5 times.

Utility Passive - Dazzling Spark

Decreases climbing Stamina consumption for your own party members by 20%. Not stackable with Passive Talents that provide the exact same effects.

Constellation:

Stormseeker: Pursuing the thrill of danger, his CRIT DMG increases by 30% for 5s after taking damage from his own explosions.

Fulminant Strike: The range of his Stun Grenade is extended by 5m.

Sky Fall: Increases the Level of Crackling Cluster by 3. Maximum upgrade level is 15.

Shifting Polarities: Enemies that are targeted by Stun Grenade will have Electro status applied to them. As the lightning arc leaps over to others, nearby opponents will also be applied with Electro status.

Rampage: Increases the Level of Stun Grenade by 3. Maximum upgrade level is 15.

Disintegrating Static: When using Cluster or Stun Grenade and firing at the bombs before they detonate, Reno causes Overloaded to take effect immediately.

Materials:

Ascension (0✦ → 6✦):

420,000 Mora

46 Artificed Spare Clockwork Component — Coppelia

1 Vajrada Amethyst Sliver

9 Vajrada Amethyst Fragment

9 Vajrada Amethyst Chunk

6 Vajrada Amethyst Gemstone

168 Rainbow Rose

18 Meshing Gear

30 Mechanical Spur Gear

36 Artificed Dynamic Gear

Talents (1 → 10 for one talent):

1,652,500 Mora

6 Meshing Gear

22 Mechanical Spur Gear

31 Artificed Dynamic Gear

3 Teachings of Equity

21 Guide to Equity

38 Philosophies of Equity

6 Lightless Silk String

1 Crown of Insight

Relationship:

Mother: He hates his mother since he found out that she cheated on his father. Since then, he doesn't want to deal with her anymore. Their relationship was difficult from the beginning as she didn't want to have a child with her "boyfriend" Agni due to her being after him only because of his money and looks. That's the reason why Serena always was hard to Reno, going so far as abusing him whenever he talked back at her, didn't do he tasks she thought she gave him (most of them she didn't even tell him to do) - all because he had more in common with his father, consequently enraging her. She was glad when she found "support" in another man's arms, the soon-to-be-father of Reno's half-sister.

Father: Reno missed him since Agni left the family behind in the desert almost 20 years ago, and he searched for him ever since then. He was glad to be reunited with him again after moving to Fontaine. The redhead always looked up to his father and still does, yet he feels guilty that he was never allowed to tell his own father what his Serena did to Agni and him. Father and son always shared a deep bond given by genetics and their shared names. Agni felt guilty and sorry for Reno to be left behind, but he had no other choice. Now, the man wants to offset everything that happened in the past.

Adoptive father: Kusayla had picked up the lost little redhead in the desert more than ten years ago. As time passed, he trained and raised Reno in several kinds of things in Agni's place. The two of them developed a father-son-like teacher-student relationship over time, and the boy somewhen started calling him "dad" on accident, though. Reno sees in him a mentor figure and family, and he's grateful for what he has done for him.

Adoptive sister: Reno met Dehya when they were children and grew up together as some kind of siblings. He had some differences with her in the beginning, but the tensions laid quickly. Since then, they have been thick friends who always help each other out and can't get separated easily. Whenever something requires the other one's attention, they make sure to reach out to their sibling. Especially Dehya loves teasing Reno because he's absolutely terrified of her when she gets mad.

Friends: Virgil and Reno have their differences and banter here and there, but they complete each other perfectly as comrades and partners on missions. What's more, they playfully bully each other if they're not pushing each other with their silly bets.

Friends: As they are indeed of friendly terms, Furina and Reno can often be seen out, conducting shenanigans and causing chaos among the crowds of Fontaine. He's surprised that she doesn't appear to judge him for otherwise being ostracised for having been jailed in Meropide.

Friends: Since settling down in Fleuve Cendre, he has gotten particularly close with Navia, the president of the Spina di Rosula. Especially when she had offered him to work for her, he was grateful to her for giving her the opportunity for employment in things that fell among his area of expertise.

Enemies: His primary enemies are Deshret's Relics, due to them having stood against Dakan Al-Ahmar. Especially because of the Relics turning against his group, he took part in dismantling the Relics, following Dehya's request for help.

Enemies: Not enemies, but he does have a 'love-hate' sort of relationship with Wriothesley. They ended up sparring time and time again whilst Reno was serving his sentence in the Fort of Meropide. Regardless, they do have their tendency to butt heads. One might view them more as rivals.

Enemies: Not enemies either, but their relationship is a rather tough one. Neuvillette could only shake his head about having Reno on trial this often before the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale sentenced him as guilty.

Backstory:

Reno's family is quite the peculiar one, considering that his mother had fled from Natlan due to unknown circumstances, whilst his father's side of the family is just a small, unremarkable group of Eremites in the Sumerun desert. Most of them have a close relationship to each other. This includes always being there for the other family members despite they all have their differences sometimes.

Still being a couple at that time, Serena and Agni raised Reno together after he was born into the Namir family. At first, he thought that they were a normal family much like any other, but he would figure out that anything else, but that was the case. Serena had been constantly leaving her own son on the side, ranging from simply ignoring him to even verbally and physically abusing him. She also tried to push all household duties onto him and smacked him regardless of whether she had actually told him to do them or didn't.

Reno was barely six years old when his father left the tribe, promising to get him in the future. Agni had found out that his wife had been cheating on him and abusing their son, and was not even allowed to take their son with him. As Serena's "new" partner Gabriel moved in on the same day, the young boy didn't want to stay with the disloyal, mean fury of a mother any longer. Hoping to catch up with Agni, Reno charged out of their home, not even awaiting permission from the elders. The boy had known about Serena cheating on his father for the longest but had been beaten to prevent him from spilling the beans.

After having lost his dad somewhere in the endless dunes and being on the brink of dehydration a few days later, he was found by Kusayla of the Dakan Al-Ahmar. The stranger grabbed the boy and took him with his group, having recognised him as Agni's kin they were sent out to collect. Back at their hideout, he joined the Dakan Al-Ahmar, the boy becoming Kusayla's adoptive son and disciple.

Over the years, his initially tense relationship with Dehya, Kusayla's other foster child, slowly lost said tension. Eventually, they became rather close after solving up their interpersonal issues and began seeing each other as siblings. Nevertheless, whenever Dehya became angry, he'd start panicking because he never learned how to properly handle a lady's emotions.

As time passed, Reno learned how to fight using explosives besides weapons commonly used among the Eremites. Kusayla never told him until in the letter addressed to Reno after his passing, but he'd been keeping Agni updated about his son's progress on a regular basis. It turned out that the boy was agile and smart, coming up with tactics on the spot. He was soon used to help plan their raids.

With Dehya having set out as part of the Blazing Beasts, Reno also decided to go his own way. Whilst still searching for his father to tell him everything about the incidents with his mother, his path somehow led him to Fontaine.

Since he left behind his original tribe, he also never learned that he had two half-sisters he'd never meet. The only ones he considers as family to this day are Kusayla, Dehya, and Agni.

Per coincidence, he met his father again one day in Sumeru, developing their father-son relationship anew. Since having moved to Fontaine, he also found employment as mercenary in the Spina di Rosula's service at Fleuve Cendre.

Honkai Star Rail:

(WIP)

Home world: (wip)

Affiliation: Masked Fool

Rarity: 5 Star

Element: Lightning

Path: Destruction (playable) / Elation (being a Fool)

#Spotify #local starry catboi #oc #original character #oc art #one piece #one piece oc #honkai star rail #honkai star rail oc #hsr #hsr oc #genshin impact #genshin impact oc #genshin oc #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers oc #tiger reno #reno #reno namir

4 notes · View notes

polyamanga · 10 months

Text

Combining these into one post! As always, thank you for the recs!! (Also thank you for the note about the Tenchi Ending trope--I'd seen that name and figured it got renamed, but wasn't sure!)

Jingai-san no Yome doesn't seem to have an official English translation for its manga (doesn't look like it has a completed fan translation either), but the anime seems to be on Crunchyroll in the US. It sounds like a cute easygoing slice-of-life series!

High schooler Tomari Hinowa is called to the principal's office one day to hear some shocking news: he's getting married! A mysterious fluffy creature called Kanenogi has chosen him as their wife, and despite Tomari's initial misgivings, he decides to accept. What follows are a series of delightful tales from this new couple's monstrous married life.

You spelled it Sekieri, did you mean Sekirei? I've seen that one floating around, but I never knew anything about the plot. It reminds me of Master of Martial Hearts, except also not at all lmao. Although they do have a similar boobs-forward look to them 🤔

The stage is set. The preparations are complete. A grand battle royale known as "The Sekirei Project" is about to take the streets of Shintou Teito by storm. For this event, the shadowy corporation known as MBI has developed 108 "Sekirei"—advanced humanoid beings with extraordinary combat skills. Set free into the city, these Sekirei must search for their "Ashikabi," masters who can unlock and control their fighting potential through kissing. Once all the Sekirei are paired, they must battle until one team emerges victorious and claims the enigmatic grand prize. Enter Minato Sahashi, a ronin whose life is as bleak as it gets. Weak-willed and unconfident by nature, his circumstances become even more hopeless when he fails his college entrance exams for the second time. However, when he encounters a Sekirei called Musubi, a bond sparks between them, and he finds himself becoming her Ashikabi. Although he begins to enjoy his life with Musubi and the other Sekirei he bonded with, he consequently finds himself increasingly embroiled in The Sekirei Project. If Minato wants to protect his newfound life, he will need to step up and participate in this demanding, high-stakes battle.

World's End Harem is another one I've seen people mention in poly circles (along with Arifureta lol), but I haven't gotten around to checking it out. The plot of WEH always made me kinda sad tbh! It felt a little cheat-y to me, even though I might be jumping to conclusions. (I recently got burned by trying out Lust Geass and finding its just a big NTR-fest so I'm probably biased lmaooo)

Diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, young researcher Reito Mizuhara is to be put into cryosleep until a cure can be found. Short on time, Reito decides to confess his pent-up feelings to his childhood crush Erisa Tachibana and bids farewell to his family and friends. As Reito goes to sleep and his consciousness begins to fade, Erisa barges into the room and declares that she will wait for him. Five years later, Reito wakes up to a post-apocalyptic world where 99.9% of the world's male population had been eradicated by the "Man-Killer Virus" four years prior. He is one of a handful of men who have become immune to this virus due to sclerosis treatment. Reito and the other four men are now invaluable assets to humankind and are expected to impregnate as many women as possible. Reito, however, is determined to find Erisa and refuses to make love with any other women. With temptations lurking around every corner, can he hold on to the woman of his dreams?

Arifureta, like I mentioned above, is one I've been meaning to look into. I heard that the light novel has a somewhat poly ending, but who knows if the manga/anime do the same!

Seventeen-year-old Hajime Nagumo is your average, everyday otaku. However, his simple life of pulling all-nighters and sleeping in school is suddenly turned upside down when he, along with the rest of his class, is summoned to a fantasy world! They're treated like heroes and tasked with the duty of saving the human race from utter extinction. But what should have been any otaku's wet dream quickly turns into Hajime's nightmare. While the rest of his class are blessed with godlike powers, Hajime's job, Synergist, only has a single transmutation skill. Ridiculed and bullied by his classmates for being weak, he soon finds himself in despair. Will he be able to survive in this dangerous world of monsters and demons with only a glorified blacksmith's level of strength?

Fujimura-kun Mates is an interesting title! Wondering if it's 'mates' as in 'friends' or as in 'mating'...lmao. I'm a fan of the character designs, based on the volume covers. They're simple but cute!

Fujimura is a loner delinquent at his school. Feared by his classmates since the first day of high school, he's had no friends and usually ditches class. But even his standoffish nature can't hold up when a class president with a few screws loose comes after him! And two more class presidents. They're a few cards short of a full deck too. (Actually, he's more like the tsukkomi in a world of boke.)

Overlord; I watched the first couple episodes of season 1. I only got far enough (as far as I remember) to see one of his love interests (Albedo is freaking EVERYWHERE lol!!) but it seems on brand for there to be at least a few!

Yggdrasil is a virtual reality game renowned for the freedom it offers its players. After a simple tutorial, players are left to explore the world and can customize anything and everything, from their classes to their weapons. However, in the year 2138, the game sees its final hours as its servers shut down at midnight. Momonga, a devoted player of Yggdrasil, decides to spend the game's last hours inside his guild, Ainz Ooal Gown. Strangely, at the stroke of midnight, the game does not log him out. Instead, Momonga finds himself transported to another world, one that is seemingly identical to that of Yggdrasil. Facing an already abnormal situation, he discovers that the NPCs have gained sentience. Trapped in his avatar's skeletal body and desperate to uncover the cause of his predicament and find other players like him, Momonga sets out to take control of the new world with the help of his loyal subjects.

As for The Rising of the Shield Hero, I've seen season 1 and half of season 2, but haven't read any of the light novels/manga. The anime didn't seem to be going in a poly direction (many girls were into him, but he definitely seemed to view them all as his daughters lmao), but I'm sure the light novel could have had PLENTY of time to get there. (That being said, for any that may want to check this series out, episode one features discussions of hypothetical sexual assault (nothing shown since it doesn't actually happen), and slavery is a reoccurring theme.)

Stories of old tell of four otherworldly heroes—wielding the sword, spear, bow, and shield—who defended the land from wave after wave of calamity. With the fate of the world in balance, the kingdom of Melromarc summons these legendary figures; in modern-day Japan, the call is answered, and the unwitting heroes are transported to this fantasy universe. Thrust into Melromarc and given the title of "Shield Hero," otaku Naofumi Iwatani is labeled the weakest due to his lack of offensive capability and apparent inexperience. When the heroes part ways to start their journeys, he only has one willing companion: the beautiful princess Malty Melromarc. However, she soon betrays him, steals all his money, and accuses him of taking advantage of her. For his alleged crimes, Naofumi is branded a criminal and made outcast of society. With hatred filling his heart, he sets out alone, vowing vengeance against those who wronged him.

#Sekirei #Jingai-san no Yome #World's End Harem #asks #Arifureta #The Rising of the Shield Hero #Overlord #Fujimura-kun Mates #talking #anonymous

9 notes · View notes

phdmama · 1 year

Note

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! 🩷

OO thank you baby!!! Okay. Gosh. I'm not great at picking favorites (like my kids, they're ALL my favorites) but I will say, there are some I feel like I put a lot into.

I'm gonna cheat and do 3 Drarry and 3 Larry because I can't cope with asymmetry and both fandoms matter very much a lot to me.

Drarry:

(We'll Call This Fixer-Upper) Home

Draco Malfoy hasn’t set foot on English soil in ten years. After the war, he fled to America, where he found himself in a community, and healed himself through following his heart into music. He’s now the lead singer and songwriter for an internationally known band, who have come back to headline the Wiltshire Music Festival. But as Draco is about to learn, his past isn’t as far away as he might have believed, and his future may hold more than he ever could have dreamed.

This is probably my OG Drarry fic and I just... yeah. I really love this one.

Maybe You're the Difference

It's been years since the war. Sure, it's probably a bad idea to hook up with Harry Potter, but Potter is gorgeous and interested.

Besides. Draco knows he’s in no danger of doing something stupid like falling in love with Potter.

This one was one of those fics where the opening scene came into my head and took me by the throat and WOULD NOT LET ME GO.

The Privilege of Being Yours

Once more, Harry Potter is being called upon to save the world, only this time, instead of dying, he's going to have to have Ritual Sex with Draco Malfoy.

This was one of those fics where I was like OH HEY WHAT IF HARRY AND DRACO HAD TO HAVE SEX FOR RITUAL MAGIC REASONS™ and then because I am who I am as a person, this happened, complete with So. Much. Magical. Theory.

Larry:

Feels Like Coming Home

The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens. After a spectacularly ugly break-up three years prior, Harry hasn't heard one word from Louis, and he's moved on. Gotten over him. But having Louis back in his life, not to mention working at the restaurant where he's a chef, isn't easy, and the feelings that Harry thought he'd left turn out to be not so easily forgotten.

This is a story about love and the power of forgiveness, and how the hard choices we make define us, and change our lives.

This is definitely one of my OG fics. One of the first long things I posted, and one I worked really hard on and poured SO MUCH of myself into.

no heart for me like yours (no love for you like mine)

When Harry Styles, wedding dress designer to the stars (sort of) and Louis Tomlinson, wedding planner and relationship expert (kind of) meet on the occasion of their sisters' engagement, sparks fly. But not the good kind. Louis thinks Harry is a dick and Harry thinks Louis is an asshole.

That doesn't last long.

The road to true love isn't always smooth or uncomplicated. Can two stubborn men find their way?

This is nowhere near one of my most popular works, but honestly, it's one of my favorite things I've written and I really think it's one of the best.

I'm Hot for Teacher (series)

This is probably cheating because it's 5 fics, not 1, but it's one cohesive story written for Wordplay 2021. I just really had fun with this, and I think it's the first thing I wrote in this particular way, as installments. And it's sort of a love song to academia.

14 notes · View notes

where-theres-smoak-2 · 1 year

Note

There are two moments in particular that stunned me about the Malina relationship in the books. There is already this scene with this dialogue from volume 1 (from my French translation):

" And now you're a deserter.

Yes.

Because of me.

Yes. "

But sorry ?! What exactly did the author have in mind with this dialogue ?! Make it sound romantic and sacrificial ? Sorry but that just makes Mal look like a huge emotional manipulator. He himself chose to desert, it's not Alina's fault. Already, the fact that she's still guilty of Mal's problems infuriates me, but then having him basically confirm to her that " Yes. It's your fault. " kills me to the hilt.

Then there's that dream / memory of Alina in Volume 2, where Alina sees a woman in a pitiful state, who is a wife, trailing behind her husband, and who is literally out loud compared to a donkey by Ana Kuya. And Mal happily waves at the couple, claiming he'll marry Alina later ?! Wtf ?! So, we're not sure if it's a memory, or a dream, or a mixture of both, but in any case, this scene is EXTREMELY disturbing !

The worst is that these are elements never raised as problematic, just that's there, and it passes, it has no impact. Normally, when you write this kind of scenes, it's to mean something! And certainly not to make the guy look like a prince charming.

Leigh literally wrote a scene where a wife is compared to a donkey and Mal goes on after hearing that that he will marry Alina when they grow up ?! But wtf ?! And I'm supposed to see that as the ultimate romance of this story ?!

It may be childish, but there are so many useless sentences like this in the books that I want to erase with a marker, they hurt my eyes so much. (I most likely will, once I have my new edition of the trilogy, my mother wanting to keep the books she read intact) That, and Alina's stupid sentence or she tells Ivan " But my power could be used to destroy the Fold ! " When it just has nothing to do with what the guy is telling you. I mean, he literally just told you that members of his non-grisha family died fighting the wars that Ravka had been waging for centuries, long before the Fold was created. Why are you talking about destroying it like that'll make things better you moron ?!

Beyond that, the scene from book 2 that I will always love is literally the scene where the Darkling appears when Mal is about to kiss Alina. It's so funny and revealing, especially when you realize how the tether works.

M*l emotionally manipulated Alina quite alot in the books, even making it her fault that he cheated on her with Zoya, its one oof the many reasons why I couldn't get behind the relationship, Like that scene you mentioned where M*l is about to kiss her and she sees the darkling, it is interesting because she has to be thinking of him for the tether to work, but she tenses up and I hate the way M*l reacts to it, he gets so mad at her, like dude she is under no obligation to kiss you, she doesn't owe you anything, and also how about instead of getting mad at her you ask her if she's ok actually communicate with her?

I've talked about the donkey scene in another post (here) but it really is just such a weird scene for the author to include if this is the relationship that you are supposed to root for, whether it was a dream or a memory. It makes the reader think that M*l wants a wife who will be like a donkey to him, who will serve him and be useful to him. Why would anyone want to root for that?

#darklina #anti malina #answered

18 notes · View notes

ineffible-chaos · 1 year

Text

The Christmas Kids

Summery:

It's been four years since Craig Tucker stepped into South Park. After a nasty, one-sided breakup at sixteen with his long-term boyfriend, Tweek Tweak, Craig has been on a downward spiral with seemingly no end. With a new assignment from his therapist, Stripe #10 and enough medication to kill a small village, Craig is returning to the source of all his problems. Things have changed in South Park and some people don't know how to leave well enough alone. With new friends, old friends, and something in between, Craig just wants to disappear out of the lives of everyone

Parings: Craig/Tweek, Kyle/Stan, Kenny/Butters/Marj

“I dream of you in every waking and sleeping moment and its the sweetest and cruelest form of torture.”

Day one.

My name is Craig Tucker.

I’m twenty-two years old.

My therapist is making me do this assignment where I have to make an entry for a whole year. Three hundred and sixty-five entries. He told me that it was okay to skip a day or two if I forgot or didn't have the energy to write anything down. I don't mind this if i'm being honest, it's better than wallowing in my own self pity like I have been the last few years.

I think it would be rude to not introduce myself to you, even if you are just a leather bound book filled with empty space.

So.

My name is Craig Tucker and I'm depressed.

I was first diagnosed when I was sixteen when my boyfriend of six years broke up with me. Then a lot of stuff happened and I got the free upgrade of having MDD- major depressive disorder, a few years later. I’m gay, I’ve known since I was fourteen. You’re probably wondering, “Craig, how did you have a boyfriend for six years if you didn’t know you were gay until years after you started dating him?”

That, my friend, is the question, isn't it? I grew up in South Park, this fucked up little town in Colorado. The adults were insane, there was one fat kid who was a menace to society (his friends were too, I still hate them for Puru) and then there was Tweek.

Tweek Tweak was this neurotic little blond kid whose parents ran the only coffee shop in all of South Park.

We even fought once because of the fat kid I mentioned earlier. We’d played superheroes together (I was Super Craig and I beat the shit out of other kids, I loved it) and before we “dated”, we were doing some medieval shit with this new kid who farted. Like, a lot. It was a weird time.

Then the Asian girls started making yaoi fanart of us and the whole town had decided that we were gay, dating and that was that. We “broke up” shortly after and Tweek had decided to make me sound like a cheating bastard with some dude named Michael (srsly what the fuck, im still mad about that).

But I guess we just sort of stayed together after that. We fake dated for the town but we actually became really good friends and eventually the line between friends and being something more just… blurred. I was the only one who could calm him down and he was the only one I could stand touching me.

That's sort of my thing. My family never believed in coddling their kids and it was rare to be touched in a way that wasn't violent (I got into fights a lot) or those posed two second family pictures. I even remember flinching away from his touch in the beginning because it was so foreign.

I haven't let anyone else touch me since.

The thought makes my skin crawl, like having any one else’s hands on me but his made me want to throw up.

Sorry, I'm rambling aren't i? It's been a while since i've talked to anyone that wasn't the therapist.

I'm gonna be honest, book. I’m not okay.

I’ve been in love with my ex for nearly ten years and I don't know how to get over him. No one else clicks and a part of me is so, so tired of getting drunk and high to feel something other than misery and self pity that I just want everything to end. That sounds bad doesn't it? Who feels that way over some guy?

Everything feels heightened now because I'm going home to South Park for the first time in four years and I'm scared out of my mind. I was a complete mess that last year and a half of high school after Tweek broke up with me and I spent most of that time high, drunk or both on the first set of meds that made me feel numb enough that I could barely think and when i could, i was so fucking miserable i wanted to die.

If I'm being honest, I don't even know how I graduated. Despite what everyone thought about Kyle Broflovsky and Wendy Testaburger being the smartest in our grade, I had been on track to be valedictorian, which I hid from everyone as best I could. Sure, I had sucked at school when I was younger but the teachers had been able to tweak (ha, jokes) how I was taught and boom, smart as hell.

Honestly, I think my teachers felt bad for me and just passed the depressed gay kid who was dumped by his long term boyfriend for a fucking girl.

Ugh.

Book, this entry is making me want to jump so I’m gonna end it here. So see you for entry two, maybe I won’t be so miserable the next time we talk.

-Craig.

He flipped the book closed and flexed his fingers, which had cramped from the amount of writing he'd done. A part of him had almost felt bad for trauma dumping through the pages and immediately wanted to punch himself in the face because how fucking stupid is that? It's a book.

He hadn’t been lying as he wrote and he’d even felt like the slightest bit of weight had eased off of his shoulders for a moment. He looked around his barren dorm room and wished he could make time stop moving; graduation had come and gone and now he was heading back home to South Park for the first time in years. Apartments were too expensive in the city and he was completely wiped out from paying tuition.

So home it was. Tricia was about to be in her senior year of high school and he’d felt guilty for missing so many events the last few years. His mom was excited he was coming home and he had no doubt that every single miserable person in town knew the Gay Kid was coming back home.

Being out of the cold shadow of the mountains had done him good, his voice had finally let go of the lispy rasp he’d had for so long and he'd let his hair grow out so it stuck out from under his hat.

He looked towards the desk in his room and stood from his perch on the bed. Stripe #10 had been changed to his carrying case and he’d protested it, his angry weeks expressing just how he felt being in his tiny enclosure.

“Dude, chill. You’ll be in there for only a little longer and I’ll give you treats later.”

Stripe let out a huff in response.

“Don’t sass me young man, it's hard being a single mother dealing with your tantrums.”

Damn kids.

He shrugged his bag on and lifted the cage, leaving behind the dorm he’d occupied for so long. He left the key by the RA office and put Stripe in the front seat of his car, buckling him in and throwing the bag into the back seat.

“Don’t expect to see your deadbeat dad anytime soon bud, just because we’re going home doesn’t mean you get to see him.” He said to Stripe, who didn’t respond.

Teenagers are so ungrateful nowadays, he thought to himself and started the long journey to South Park.

this is also posted on A03

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/

8 notes · View notes

elmhat · 1 year

Text

I posted 71 times in 2022

That's 71 more posts than 2021!

27 posts created (38%)

44 posts reblogged (62%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theminecraftbox

@elmhat

@simplepotatofarmer

@respiteresponse

@lookinghalfacorpse

I tagged 65 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#reblogs - 35 posts

#c!dream - 21 posts

#dsmp - 17 posts

#dreblr - 11 posts

#las nevadas - 9 posts

#c!quackity - 9 posts

#dsmp analysis - 9 posts

#dream smp - 8 posts

#pandora's vault - 8 posts

#my writing - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#the events involving the butcher army are also recent in techno's mind

My Top Posts in 2022:

good authority

Read on AO3.

Purpled and Punz had made a deal.

Now, Dream sculpts Slime into his own weapon.

The mask above Charlie’s face was familiar.

Not the comforting familiarity of Las Nevadas, of bright lights and big halls and people who never seemed to sleep. No, this was more of a twisted nostalgia. He cast his mind back, to months and years of digging himself in and watching the world go by.

Such memories told him that this mask belonged to Dream. More recent memories told him that this was an extremely bad thing. Dream meant danger.

There was a sword at Dream’s hip.

32 notes - Posted November 22, 2022

the new plan

(My fic for stagedduo day! Thanks to @aphaerie for organising this!)

Read on AO3.

After the failed attack on Las Nevadas, Dream refuses to leave the prison.

When he and Punz finally talk, Dream isn't behaving as expected.

Only a month after the Las Nevadas attack did Punz see Dream again.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Every night, they paced up and down the tower, biting back frustration every time they asked to talk face to face again, now that things had gone so horribly wrong. It doesn’t even have to be in the prison, they had said, and they hadn’t mentioned the way the vines and overgrowth made it feel more like a tomb than a home.

Dream had, instead, kept them updated on the situation in clipped notes over the communicator. It was an inefficient system at best, a breakdown in cooperation at worst, not to mention how a bullet point summary gave Punz exactly no insight into Dream’s mental state.

40 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

// dsmp rp

I'm obsessed with how Dream and Punz ruined their lives trying to save the world and cheat death, putting themselves through hell and back to discover some greater meaning about this unnatural power, while DreamXD watched them knowing full well he only dropped the books into the world because he sorta felt like it one day.

54 notes - Posted December 1, 2022

Engaging in fandom spaces, whether it's art or writing or edits or another form of expression, comes from a place of genuine passion. It's creating for the love of creating, because you deeply care about the media. And that's terrifying.

That kind of vulnerability is stressful! It gets easy to wonder if you're just being stupid, to think that nothing you've done is as good as other people's so you might as well just quit. It's made worse by the the types of numerical validation you see on every site, even here. No one else cares about what you're making, the numbers prove it, so why should you?

But here's the thing. The impact you're leaving cannot be measured by numbers. I'm speaking from experience. Until recently, I never even had accounts for engaging with the content I enjoyed. I would hang around Tumblr and Twitter and AO3, completely anonymously, and it was amazing. I've read fics that have brought me to tears, that have been some of the most beautiful pieces of fiction I've ever read, period. And the authors would never have known!

And maybe it does seem a touch selfish not to share around content I enjoyed to give it more traction, and maybe I should have done better, but once again, fandom spaces are scary. The longer I spend in them, the more I realize that other people feel the same way! There are so many people out there, waiting for every new post, enthusing over every little thing you make, who you don't even know exist.

The whole point of a fandom is that it's a community. We're all here for the same reasons. For as long as you make fan content, there will always be someone out there to appreciate it.

67 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I was rewatching Bad's prison visit and it hit me how Sam really asks people, "Do you think the prisoner is deserving of being locked up in the prison?"

Just, the implications of that question. This isn't a fun little quiz, these are questions that could deny you entry from the prison. It goes against the mechanical way Sam would treat the prison itself, with its safety measures and procedures that he must follow every time, those same redstone mechanisms he maintains seamlessly.

And yes, you could argue that it's logical to want to know if a visitor is likely to want to break Dream out, but it's not like they would actually answer truthfully if they did. It's yet another way that Sam tries to apply objective logic to a situation that requires nuance.

Which begs the question, is anyone who thinks Dream doesn't deserve to be locked up evil too? What do they deserve? Does having these thoughts, even without acting on them, warrant punishment? If Bad had turned around and said no, I don't think Dream deserves this, would Sam have simply sent him away, or would that not be enough to keep the prison safe?

214 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

3 notes · View notes

heavenlyhischier · 3 years

Text

only when you're high - rafe cameron

word count: 4.3k

summary: Rafe only ever talks to you when he's high, and you've eventually had enough.

warnings: angst i guess, language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, lil makeout sesh at the end

note: ik this isn't the request but i've been working on this for a while so here ya go <3 this is def not my best writing so dont judge it too harshly

3:53 a.m.

You had been dreaming about your cat taking over a world full of people with fish heads when the incessant ringing from your phone jolted you awake. You blindly flung your hand onto the nightstand, knocking over a half empty water bottle and a bottle of ibuprofen before your fingers grazed the cool screen. You picked up the device, nearly blinding yourself when you opened your eyes to see who was calling you at such an ungodly hour. Once your eyes adjusted to the screen’s brightness, the name ‘Stupid Kook’ was displayed across the top. You hesitantly swiped to answer.

“What in the flying fuck do you want,” You whisper yelled, propping your half-conscious body up with your elbow.

“Hey, baby,” He greeted, his voice dragging as if he was thinking too hard about his words. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

You stopped breathing for a moment, not sure what you were supposed to say to his weird revelation. You had been having a weird thing with Rafe for a few months now. After many drinks, you would often finding yourself making out with him in a secluded area. Despite your random make out sessions, he had never once called you to simply hear your voice. In fact, he hadn’t even called you before. It was usually always a quick ‘wyd’ text at midnight and nothing more.

“That’s weird, you’ve never called me before,” You pointed out, “You’ve also never called me baby before, so what’s that about?”

“Mm, I don’t know. Always wanted to call you that before so why not? What are you up to, baby,” He asked, his words slurring together in a way that could only happen while under the influence.

“You’re high aren’t you,” You sighed. Of course, he was high. You should have known that from the get-go. Rafe Cameron wouldn’t have called you sober; he never even looked at you sober.

A brief silence hung over the line, Rafe’s heavy breathing being the only thing coming through the receiver. “Maybe a little. Had a rough day, so I went to see Barry and now I’m at Topper’s. Talking to you.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile grace your features; a smile that was gone almost as soon as it came. You let your elbow fall from its position, your head falling back onto the pillow that was still warm from when you were asleep. “How sweet of you. What are you doing, anyways? Shouldn’t you be getting shitfaced and taking some innocent girl to bed?”

He let out an airy laugh before speaking. “The only one I’d like to take to bed is you, and we somehow always stop before it gets to that point. Anyways, it’s just me, Topper, and Kelce, and I started thinking about us in the back of my truck when we were outside. Before I knew what I was doing, you answered the phone.”

Your cheeks flared red as images of Rafe’s hands exploring your body flashed through your mind, the feeling of his ring on your skin igniting something inside of you. His mouth latching onto the sensitive spots of your neck as your moans filled his truck. You let your fingers ghost over your lips as if you could still feel his own on yours. More memories of him exploring your body in every way but the way you wanted him most were running through your mind. Every time you wanted to give in to him, give in to your urges, but you couldn’t.

“You know, I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you and I hate it,” He started, his words still slow, “I hate it because you’ll never let me have you.”

“Rafe,” You groaned, running a hand over your tired face, “I don’t really feel like giving myself to someone who only talks to me when they’re drunk or high. Someone who would rather be caught dead than with a pouge.”

“You know it’s not like that, baby. It’s complicated,” He tried, and you could tell there was a hint of unfamiliar panic in his voice.

“It always is. Guess I’ll see or talk to you next time you get fucked up. Goodnight Rafe,” You whispered before hanging up on the boy, ignoring his desperate protests.

1:38 a.m.

You turned the shower water off before stepping out onto the cool tiled floor, water dripping from every part of your body. You chose to ignore the buzzing coming from your phone, moving to grab the towel hung on the back of your bathroom door. However, the buzzing started again as you were drying off your legs.

“Who the fuck,” You groaned as you wrapped the towel around your still wet body. ‘Stupid Kook’ was making a second appearance, much to your surprise. “Yes, Rafe?”

“What’s up your ass,” He laughed his infectious laugh. You could picture him throwing his head back and his glazed over eyes twinkling with amusement, something you had only seen when you found yourself admiring him from afar.

“Nothings up my ass. Just don’t know what your high ass wants this time.” You gripped your phone in your hand and started to walk back towards your room. Your parents had fallen asleep hours ago, so you had to make sure you were quiet. However, that deemed difficult in the darkest hours of the night in your already poorly lit house. You bumped your hip and stubbed your toe on just about anything that was out in the open. Once you were in your room, you hastily shut the door and flipped the light switch on.

“Hello! Hello! Hello! Where are you,” Rafe yelled, making you wince and pull the phone away from your ear.

“Jesus, dude. Calm down, I was walking back to my room,” You chastised, doing your best to hold your phone in between your ear and shoulder.

“What were you doing? I missed you,” He pouted.

You ignored the swelling you got in your heart and said, “I was leaving the bathroom. I just finished showering. What are you doing?”

You grabbed a clean pair of underwear and a shirt you had taken from JJ after you had thrown up over whatever you were wearing that night. Rafe began telling you what he was doing, which was quite literally nothing. However, he quickly dove into a spout of how you were naked and wet and how badly he wanted to see you without any clothes on. Your cheeks were burning as he went on and on about all of the sinful things he wanted to do to you. You let him ramble on a bit more as you turned the light off once you were clothed and ready for bed.

“Okay, that’s enough, Rafe,” You stopped him, pulling your blanket back so you could crawl in bed. “So, calling me two times within a week? You falling in love with me?”

It was so painfully obvious that it was a joke, but you could practically feel the tension radiating through your phone from Rafe’s end. His abrupt silence concerned you because this boy was far from silent when he was doped out.

“Maybe I am,” He finally got out, and you couldn’t detect any sarcasm in it.

“Sure you are,” You rolled your eyes, blaming exhaustion for briefly clouding your judgment, “If you were in love with me, you’d actually talk to me when you aren’t too fucked to remember your own name.”

You started picking at a loose thread on your blanket as you let your mind wander to what life would be life if you had an actual relationship with Rafe. Going to parties with him. Hanging around the Island Club with him and his friends. Him doing lines off your body before having his way with you.

“I will talk to you when I’m not high,” His voice broke you from your thoughts, “If that’s what you really want.”

“I do,” You said way too quickly, “I mean, yeah sure. That would be nice, I guess.”

“Just text me and I’ll answer.” You couldn’t stifle the yawn that escaped your lips, but you did try and hide it from Rafe. Your attempt was no good, though. “You’re tired, go to bed.”

“No, I’m fi-.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Rafe shouted over you, “Talk to you soon, baby.”

Rafe’s name popped up on your phone screen every few days after he had gotten drunk out of his mind or too high to do anything other than find your contact. You didn’t mind it at first, but after you had texted him during the day and those messages went unanswered, you grew hurt and annoyed. You had tried asking him why he wouldn’t respond, but he always found a way to change the subject. You wanted to ask him about it in person, but you hadn’t seen him in almost a month. You wanted to ask him why he couldn’t bother to pick up the phone when he was sober, but wasted no time in calling you as soon as he got his bump in.

One of the nights he called, you offered to have him come over because your parents were gone, but he said no. Made up some excuse about how he was staying with Topper for a while since Sarah cheated on him and he wanted to be there for his friend. You understood that, so you didn’t push him after that. Then, the next time you told him about a party everyone was going to and how you wanted to see him there. You even told him to bring the other two. That time he told you he was staying away from parties for a while, wanting to stay to himself for the most part due to the constant stress from his dad. You knew how Ward could be sometimes, so it wasn’t hard to believe him and move on from there.

You wanted to be mad to him for only acknowledging you when he was high, but you couldn’t be. You’ve always wanted to feel wanted by somebody, and he made you feel like that albeit only when he was far gone from reality. You could deal with it as long as you got to talk to him, no matter how insecure it made you. Well, you thought you could.

2:25

Your parents were gone for the night, so you opted to watch Marvel movies in the living room. You were so invested in watching Iron Man and shoving popcorn in your mouth that you didn’t feel your phone go off the first six times. Or the fifteen times after that. Not that you would have cared either way. You knew the only person it could be was the boy who never wanted you sober. The credits began rolling across the TV, so you finally decided to pick up your discarded phone. You were shocked to see Rafe had called you eight times and texted you thirteen. Overall, his texts said the same thing.

Why aren’t u answering me :(

Call me pls

I wanna talk to you baby

It was if he knew you were finally looking at your phone because his contact popped up not ten seconds later. You rolled your eyes, but reluctantly answered.

“Y/N! Where have you been,” He whined into the receiver, “I’ve been trying to call you for like two hours.”

“Watching movies,” Your words were sharp and short, not particularly wanting to talk to him right now. You’ve nearly reached your breaking point with him.

Rafe could immediately tell something was off with you by the way you sounded. “What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath in, setting your bowl of popcorn on the coffee table after you paused the end credit scene. You leaned forwards and planted your elbow on your knee as you held your head in annoyance.

“I’m fine, Rafe. I’m just getting fed up with you only wanting to talk to me when you’re high or drunk,” You started, “I used to be fine with it because it once every couple of weeks, but now it’s almost every day and it’s annoying. You told me to text you when you’re sober, and I did, but you never responded. I try and offer to come over to you or have you come to me, but you always have an excuse. I know you want to be there for Topper and you don’t really want to be around anyone right now, but that doesn’t mean I have to put up with it.”

“Y/N, I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just-It’s complicated. Please understand that,” He was practically begging you to listen to him.

“Rafey, are you coming back to play beer pong with us,” A female voice suddenly cut through the sudden sound of music.

Your breathing stopped and your heart felt like it was being squeezed by Rafe’s own hand. A wave of heartbreak crashed over your entire body. “‘I just don’t want to be around anyone’ huh? Thought you were just spending time with Topper for a while? You know, if you didn’t want to see me, all you had to do was say so,” You whimpered, hurt now mixing with your anger and annoyance.

“No, wait,” He tried, yelling at whoever came in the room to get out, “Y/N, please. It isn’t lik-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. It is like that, Rafe. It is exactly like that. You don’t want to see me, and that is fine. I get it. Why would you ever want to be seen with someone from the Cut? It doesn’t matter, though. Don’t call me anymore. You lied to me. That is not something that I can forgive,” Your tears were too strong to hold back now, “I don’t care for liars, Rafe Cameron, and you’re the biggest one of all.”

You quickly hung up and turned off your phone, throwing it towards the end of the couch so you weren’t tempted to grab it. You grabbed the large blanket from the back of the couch, picked another movie, and let your tears fall as it played in front of you.

“Honey,” Your moms gentle voice broke through, “You fell asleep on the couch.”

You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the bright light shining through the giant window. The headache hit you like a ton of brinks, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in pain. Your mom was hovering over you, her hand on your shoulder and her soft eyes pretending to not notice how puffy your cheeks and red your eyes are.

“I guess so,” You mumbled, pushing yourself up into a sitting position, “I’ll go lay down in my room. I’m still tired.”

She gave you an understanding nod with a caring smile and helped you off the couch. Her hand lingered on your back as if she wanted to say something to you, but she decided to leave it alone for now. You would talk to her when you were ready, if you ever were. You gave her a thumbs up when she told you her and your father would be out again most of the day.

Your feet dragged as you stumbled back to your room, using the wall to keep you steady. You pushed the door open with your foot and gave your cat, who was laying on your bed as if she owned it, a stupid smile. You fell onto the bed and pulled her onto your chest as you turned your phone back on. You were scared to confront the actions from last night, but knowing Rafe, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to even send you a text about it. You were quickly proven wrong the moment your phone turned back on. The vibration from all of the texts, voicemails, and snapchats felt like it lasted for five straight minutes. Nearly all were from the boy you wanted nothing to do with. Although, you noticed a voicemail from Topper, who you forgot even had your number.

Um, hey its Topper. Look dude, I don’t know what happened, but Rafe is freaking out like a bitch right now. He keeps mumbling shit about how he fucked things up with, which I didn’t even know you two were a thing but whatever I don’t really care. He kicked everyone out of my house and has been calling and texting you for like thirty minutes straight now so please call him back, so he shuts the fuck up. If not for him, do it for my sanity before I kill him. Uh, yeah, thanks, bye.

You sighed deeply after the voicemail cut off, your heart rate increasing at the thought of Rafe being upset. If he was bad enough that Topper of all people called you, you knew it was bad. You wanted to not care because of how he made you feel, but you did. You’ve always cared about the blond boy more than you cared to admit. You finally decided to look at the messages he sent you.

Y/N pls call me back

I’m sorry its not what it looks like and I know that sounds stupid but its true

Pls talk to me. I need u to talk to me

I promise that I never wanted to hurt u ok???

I love you, Y/N. Please call me or I’m coming to your house tomorrow.

The world stopped spinning when you read the last message. You kept reading it over and over again as if you misread it the first time. Rafe had never been any kind of affectionate with you until he called you baby. Rafe Cameron was not someone known to get emotional, so you weren’t sure if you believed his words. He was a liar and would do anything to get what he wanted, so what was different now?

You heard a knock on the door followed by your moms muffled voice, but you were too focused on the situation in front of you to notice who it was. Your eyes were glued to the screen, staring at the three words you never thought anyone other than your family and friends would say to you. The world around you was fading away, your heart feeling as if it was going to beat out of your chest as tears slid down your still puffy cheeks. You weren’t going to let him do this to you. You weren’t going to let him toy with you anymore.

“Y/N,” A deep voice dragged you out of your subconscious.

Your eyes darted over to the door and saw the last person you wanted to see. Rafe was standing there, his eyes wide and blood shot and he looked like total shit. His hair was a wild mess, nothing like its usual tamed state. You met his gaze and you wished you hadn’t. One look from him and you were puddy in his hands. One look and every thought you had about never seeing him again flew out the window.

“Hey, can we talk,” He mumbled, his bright blue eyes looking everywhere but at you. “Please.”

Not trusting your words, you gave him a swift nod and gestured to the spot next to you on your bed. You leaned to the side and placed your cat on the ground, watching as she rubbed herself all over Rafe’s leg before scampering away. His walk to your bed was painfully slow, and you wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that was unreasonable.

“What do you want, Rafe,” Your voice was harsh, trying to ignore the urge to reach out to him. “What do you want to talk about? How you only use me for your own pleasure? How you only ever even look at me when you’re drunk or high? How you lied to me? Wanna talk about that?”

Your anger surprised even yourself. One second you wanted to hold him in your arms and comfort him, but then the memory of how he treated you came back and flipped a switch in your brain. You don’t know how you feel and you hate it.

“I deserve every bit of your anger,” He breathed out, letting his hand fall dangerously close to your own, “But please let me explain everything to you, okay?”

“Fine,” You gave in, “Talk.”

“Yeah, thank you, okay. I really do want to talk to you when I’m not absolutely fucked, I do. I know that it doesn’t seem like that, but its true. I just, I can’t. Every time I look at you, think about you, I hear my dads voice screaming at me that I will never be good enough for anyone. I have this thought drilled into my head every day that no matter what I do, who I am, I am just never enough. To me, you’re no exception to that. In fact, you remind me even more. Wait no.”

Rafe rubbed both of his hands over his face and tugged at his hair, afraid that he’s already fucking this up. “Rafe,” You gently spoke up, turning to grab his hands from his face. “It’s fine. Keep going.”

His eyes met yours and you could see how strained he was. There were too many emotions swirling in his eyes for you to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. “Okay, um, okay. To me, you are way too good for me, so the only time I feel comfortable talking to you is when I’m high. I’ve never had trouble talking to any girl before, but you’re more than that to me. You’re more than just some girl to me and it scares me, so I feel like I have to be, yanno, not me. When I talk to you. I want to be with you more than I have ever wanted to be with someone in my life”

Your hand was still holding his as you let his words sink in. Him revealing how his dad truly made him feel made your heart ache for him. It made you want to grab him by the face and tell him how he is more than good enough. You wanted to let him in, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for the risk that came along with it. You’re not sure if you want all the things that came with being with Rafe Cameron. He’s followed by hurt and lies, and you do feel guilty thinking that, but it’s been proven true countless times.

“Rafe, listen to me,” You began, moving so you were straddling him and holding his face in your hands. His hands immediately came to grip your hips, and you are well aware that this was a more than compromising situation. “I understand that your father is probably the worst person we both know, but that doesn’t excuse you lying to me. I don’t know if I can trust you, no matter how much I may want to.”

You watched as tears gather in his eyes, and he was doing his best to keep them at bay. He had never felt the way he feels about you before, and he’s more than aware that his reputation precedes him. He knows that he’s done nothing more than prove how untrusting he is to you, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from trying to prove to you that he means what he’s saying.

“I know that nothing I say will fix what I’ve already done. I know that, but I can show you just how much you mean to me, if you’ll let me. We can go at your pace. Do things your way. Just, please, give me another chance to prove myself to you.”

You’re searching for any detection of a lie in his eyes, in his voice, but you come up empty. You wipe away the stray tears that broke through his wall of protection. You hesitantly placed your forehead on his, and you could hear him take in a sharp breath at the connection. Your eyes fluttered closed, your nose brushing against his as you weighed all of your options.

“Did you mean what you to me? In your last text,” You whispered, too scared to open your eyes and look at him. “Do you actually love me?”

“More than you know,” His breath was hot against your chin, and he pulled you closer into him.

You decided to take a leap, dive into something that scared you more than anything. Your lips finally met his, and Rafe wasted no time in returning the feeling. Your hands fell from his cheeks and clasped each other behind his neck, while his hands stayed placed on your hips, too scared to push you too far. You deepened the passion filled kiss by pulling him closer to you and running your tongue across his bottom lip. Rafe’s lips moved in such a sensual way that you almost didn’t know how to react. It was much different from the lust filled kisses you’ve shared in the past. You started moving your hips on top of him, an action that had him gripping your hips tighter than before.

Y/N,” Rafe breathed out after he broke away from you, “If you don’t stop, I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“Then don’t.”

i have not edited this so if you see a mistake lmk. love u

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #obx #obx imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine

400 notes · View notes