#the lady was nice but I was WAY to focused on being anxious to talk to her properly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stoned-eren · 5 months

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can i request eren acting a little crazy? like telling you he loves you so much he won't *ever* let you leave him in a serious tone but you think he's just messing around, being cute (totally unaware of how crazy he can be)

your work is really nice btw, i reallllly like how you write eren <3

a/n: hi hi! thank you so much for your patience, i absolutely loved writing this <3 anything with obsessive/unhinged eren has me at my mercy... and thank you for your kind words aaa im so happy you enjoy my writing! seriously, it means alot! content: pre-established relationship, yandere themes? (more like obsessive), fluff, one teeny tiny mention of death word count: 1.1k - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

intense, possessive, enthralling.

that’s the best way to describe eren’s love. he loves fully, he loves completely. he loves until there’s nothing left in his essence, until his bones are withered away, his eyes are dull and tired, and his heart no longer beats.

and he loves you. undeniably so.

eren makes it known to you, every second you two are together. whether that’s a small squeeze of your shoulders, or pressing his lips against your forehead, little acts of affection are thrown your way, very often.

and although he’s undoubtedly sweet with you, he’s colder to others. a bit more hostile. with a piercing toxicity in his voice, and a deeply seeded fire in his gaze, eren does whatever he can to ward off any “threats”.

but in eren’s eyes, everyone’s a threat. no one can be trusted. you’re just too sweet. too sweet for eren to let you out of his sight. too sweet for eren to ever let you go.

you’re such a good person to him. he cherishes that endlessly.

you’re so good. in eren’s eyes, your affection and care for him was something that had to be protected. at any cost.

anyone who dared to disrupt that, even slightly, would pay dearly.

after a particularly nasty week, eren felt himself getting irritable. anxious, even. a few men actually had the nerve to approach you. there was even one bastard that tried to ask you out on a date. all week, there were people staring at you, people talking to you, people flirting with you. in fact, the one filthy rat who asked you out even decided to touch you. just a simple hand on your shoulder, but it was enough.

it was enough to send eren into a state of fuming panic. endlessly, he replayed the scenarios from this week in his mind. whenever he thought back on it, punching the guy who touched you didn’t seem like enough of a punishment.

…what exactly were you doing to him? can’t you see how much he loves you, cares about you, wants to protect you?

was this your intentions? to leave eren scared, threatened, and so violently angry?

the feeling of uncertainty weighed on him, it ate away at him. you needed to be his. undoubtedly. forever.

as the two of you spent time at eren’s place, both of you attempting to relax in his room, he felt his restlessness and anxiety skyrocket.

you sit at the small desk in eren’s room while you halfheartedly tear apart an outrageously expensive piece of bread. eren is sitting a little way away from you, resting himself on the edge of his bed.

“-you know, i’ll never understand why that lady sells her bread for so much more than everybody else,” you say. “it’s not even that good.”

“mmh,” eren simply grunts out, his mind evidently not focused on the casual conversation at hand.

“…you feeling alright, ren?” you hum at him, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “is my bread talk boring you?”

“it’s not that,” eren responds. “i just…”

he goes silent for a moment.

the utterly obsessive feelings eren had, combined with the events from this week, made him slip. just a little.

“…i’m never going to let you go. ever. you’re mine…“ eren trails off. “you’ll always be mine. i know we’re meant to be together.”

“…oh? is that so?” you smile at him, a little giggle falling from your lips. “where is this coming from, hm?”

“i just don’t want to lose you,” eren says, his eyes locked onto you. “you matter to me, more than anything.”

you give him a cute smile, tilting your body so that you’re facing eren.

“aw, that’s sweet of you…” you say, evidently delighted by his words. “you’re important to me too eren.”

“i hope so,” eren murmurs. “…fuck. i’d do anything for you.”

“anything, huh?” you chirp up.

“anything,” eren breathes. “…i’d burn the world for you, you know.”

“well, i hope you don’t do that… i live there,” you say with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“i really mean it…” eren replies.

a deep sigh leaves eren’s lips before he continues his sentence. “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you. honestly, i feel like i could kill someone for you.”

“oh- let’s not go that far…” you trail off.

“i mean- i just... i can’t stop thinking about you… i can’t stop looking at you… fuck- you just really mean a lot to me. i don’t want you to ever leave me…”

he stares at the ground, his eyes locked onto the wooden floor.

“…i’m not going to leave you, ren… ever,” you softly reply, setting your torn bread down.

hastily getting up from your chair, you make your way over to eren. as you take a seat on his plush bed, eren’s attention drifts from the paneled floor to your beautiful irises. once he catches himself looking at you, it’s hard for him to look away. it feels impossible to look away.

eren mumbles. “i wouldn’t be able to handle it. i don’t think i could see you with another person, ever. god… like that guy from earlier. he pisses me off.”

“eren…” you sigh softly.

“fuck- what a piece of shit. no one should be flirting with you,” he spits out, clearly working himself up at this point. “only me. it should only be me. i don’t want anyone even looking at you in that way. just the thought alone makes me want to-“

“ah- i get it, i get it,” you say, taking his hands in yours.

a reassuring smile flashes across your face, trying to deescalate eren’s creeping anger. gently, you give his palms a squeeze. “like i said eren, nothing is going to happen. you’re all i want, all i need. please, don’t worry.”

the tension that was previously evident in eren’s hands starts to ease. the look on his face is calmer, more relaxed.

“god- i’m sorry. i just really love you,” eren breathes to you. “you’re too good to me…i don’t know how i deserve you.”

“oh, don��t say that,” you say, comfort coaxing your voice. “…i love you too, though. just try your best to remember that, okay?”

a slow nod comes from eren. you lean into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. letting go of his hands, you trail your fingers up his forearms, your digits caressing his skin as you wrap your arms around him. your hug is soft and gentle, almost hesitant. there’s a fluttering in eren’s chest, a vibrancy quite literally making him glow as you embrace him.

eren lets a small smile crack through his lips. vulnerability is still undeniably scrawled on his expression. it always is. ultimately, he just wants more of you, more experiences of you, more time with you.

but for now, just hearing your sweet, songlike voice tell eren that you love him, is enough. just feeling your supple skin shyly brush against him, is enough.

everything about you, was enough.

#ask #anon #writing.exe #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #eren jeager #eren #eren yeager #eren jager #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x reader fluff #aot fluff #yandere eren #obsessive eren

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meduseld · 2 years

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your last au has me going through it 😭💔 does nick tell isaiah anything about ziggy? also is isaiah more like his mom or his dad? or both maybe? im sure its heartbreaking either way! ❤️

It has me going through it too (and work has been bonkers so yay, finally able to answer ur ask!)

I think Nick does, in vague terms, but always complimentary. Never a bad word. "I loved your mother and she loved you" "She was brave and bold and smart" and "Your mother would be proud". Isaiah catches on fairly early on that his mom is a) not dead b) his father is still in love with her and b) she wasn't married to his dad and that all that is ~hot gossip~ but he doesn't push it bc he loves his dad and thinks this would be hurtful, but also would be a bit afraid of the answers too. [Town ladies talk, and plenty tired to leverage "the boy needs a mother" into being a stepmom married to the most important man in town but Nick rebuffed them all bc he's still evidently in Love with Ziggy. So they talk shit about her too and Isaiah is a good listener, good at being unnoticed when it suits him].

Nick probably scrounged up photos of Ziggy too, to give to Isaiah, which he keeps on his nightstand. Nick was *truly* bowled over by the love he feels for his child, he's the first Goode man to actually love and care for his son as a person and son and not a Pact necessary inheritance/failsafe. Which while great and motivating and fulfilling, also hammered home how little his dad cared for him as a person and how morally bankrupt he really was. Nick is sweating the Pact because he loves his son and wants to save Isaiah's soul and future and doesn't want him tainted by this. See Satan thought that accepting Isaiah as Ziggy's "sacrifice" to be allowed to leave Sunnyvale meant that it would effectively baby trap Nick into the Pact because the Heir is Right There and he can't leave because of the Pact, it really brought home to Nick that he would do anything to save Isaiah from that fate *and* allowed Ziggy to gear up a return that ends the Pact and does save Isaiah.

I think that Isaiah, like a lot of kids, has both the best and the worst of his parents in him. He's strong and smart and brave. And like them, laser focused and committed. Which is great when it comes to goals, less so when he decides you've wronged him and are getting Revenged. On the surface he does seem a lot like Nick, since that's who raised him, Sunnyvale polite, but he's never been Will or Sheila style. He's quiet and studious and very very observant. That comes from some of Nick's not great traits: despite trying to be better, a lifetime of isolationist secrecy rubs off and Isaiah gets fast that there's a lot Not Being Talked about and all about Nick's extreme idea of discretion and the particular Goode family Omerta. So he's likeable, and has friends, but they are shallow bonds. No sleepovers, he would never dream of it and Nick wouldn't let it happen either. But he's very very good and getting and gathering information, listening at keyholes, going unnoticed to spy and because of that slyly manipulative to get the info and results he wants. People don't notice, except maybe Nick. He's the nice popular guy, the one you wish you hated but ugh no he's sweet, but again he doesn't do deep bonds and if he feels you deserve comeuppance he makes sure you get it....... and that no one ever knows Isaiah is behind it. That laser focused dedication again. He seems like the typical carefree handsome straight A class president who is friends with everybody, but underneath he is tightly controlled and calculated, aware of everything and keenly insightful, and faaaaaaaar more anxious than he seems. It's a very Batman and Bruce Wayne situation, in fact probably what Bruce would have been if his parents lived, by putting on the expected persona of the wealthy scion of the elite that totally isn't weird or into Stephen King or constantly freaking out. Just like Bruce Wayne is himself neuroatypical and probably mentally ill, which is hard to tell with the personas and drives he has built, Isaiah has a LOT of generational/genetic curses (not just the Satan bit that still has some influence but addiction issues on the Berman side and the health consequences of longterm stress marginalization and poverty that we know are passed down from mother to child. Trauma lasts ages and both his parents have that and generations of terrible parenting to get them there).

He's also got that Berman passion and tension, so on the outside he and his dad seem ultra tight and agreeing, and while they are super close, they clash a lot behind closed doors (very, YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, GAWD DAD YOU ARE SO ANNOYING style, not like actual fights. Bratty teen stuff). And while he does follow Nick's lead on propriety and such, he has Ziggy's laugh and smile, and sometimes he'll make a gesture that's so Ziggy that Nick needs to catch his breath from the way it hits him so hard. The first time he laughed, not a baby laugh but when it was his distinct laugh, Nick heard Ziggy and almost cried.

#nick x ziggy #more pain baby #fear street #goode family #isaiah has a better chance but #i think even after his dad's death and the curse ending #ziggy would see a lot of nick in him to her delight and also terror #he's never gonna be quite a hero but i think he'd be on the side of the angels

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vanya-imyarek · 1 year

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The Washerwoman

DISCLAIMER: while ispired by real accounts of obstetric violence, all names and facts recounted in this story are invented and do not refer to real people.

The hospital hall was almost blindlingly white, only broken by the equally aqua-clad nurses going back and forth. Tha air was filled with a low murmur, and occasionally a scream, a request for help.

Nobody was looking in her direction. She tried to stop a nurse passing by.

"Good morning. I am Aglaia Gheraldini, I was supposed to meet with ..."

"Ask at the reception"

"It was them who told me to go here ..."

"That's not my problem"

The nurse left. Aglaia found herself stranded in the aisle, now even more nervous at the perspective of actually approaching someone.

"Excuse me? I'm here for the internship ..." she tried asking a doctor.

"I'm busy"

"Excuse me, I wanted to speak with Dr Farella ..."

"Can't you read the signs over the door?!"

"Listen, move, you are in the way of everyone"

"Sorry"

They were right. Anxious as she was, she had stopped looking at the signs over the doors, and Dr Farella's office was in fact right in front of her. Nice going, Aglaia.

She could hear the muttering of the nurses and ostetricians around.

"Yeah, sorry ..."

"That's the intern? We will have to just endure her ..."

Good, she had already made a fool of herself. Desperately trying not to worsen the situation, she lightly knocked at the door, doing everything she could not to seem intrusive.

"Excuse me, I'm Aglaia Gheraldini. I had an agreement for an internship in this hospital with Dr Farella ..."

The middle aged man who was examining a bunch of papers at the desk glanced up and, upon actually noticing her, gave her a bright smile.

"That's me! Now, dear, I'm a little busy right now. Maybe we talk later? Go take a walk, maybe we'll get a drink together later and discuss this"

The baby blue of the sky clashed against the gold of the burnt grass in the heat of summer; the pinewood was closer and closer, promising cool, dark green shade, and Aglaia walked faster.

Finally, she reached her refuge from the merciless sun; she swiped her sweat, and sighed contently. Trekking was just what she needed after a long week of work.

She inspired the scent of pines and sea breeze. If she closed her eyes and focused she could hear, beyond the murmur of a nearby stream, the crashing of the waves on a beach. Maybe she would have gone for a swim later ...

She had fallen in love with Sardinia years ago, when she was a young teenager and had spent a summer there. She had been instantly smitten by the constant presence of the sea that found you no matter where you were, by the dry expanses of dry and reddish earth, by the night sky that held more stars than she had ever seen in her life.

Finding a stage in an hospital near Sassari had seemed like a blessing: to finally get to do her dream job, and enjoy the wonders of Sardegna during her scarce free time. Of course, now that she had seen the hospital, she was starting to have some doubts; but after all, nothing guaranteed her that an hospital in Milan or Rome would have been any better, and without being in such a beautiful place. She could still count herself lucky.

Another sound mixed with the stream and the waves. At first, she had troubles recognizing it: cicadas, birds? No, she realized as she walked closer: it was a human voice. It was singing something akin to a lullaby, in that Sardinian dialect that Aglaia didn't understand. A sweet, melancholic voice ... so melancholic. So much that it gave her chills. There was something wrong in those sad words, something unnatural ... what the hell was she thinking?!

It was just some lady singing. Judging by the direction of the sound, she was by the stream Aglaia was about to see, probably another trekker, maybe out with her child.

She would have seen her, gave her that friendly but detached greeting between two people who cross paths in the middle of nowhere, and continued on to the sea. Simple as that.

There was something in Aglaia that refused to do so. Something that paralized her, that screamed at her to don't go, don't go, don't go. It was ridiculous ... but still, that day, Aglaia avoided the stream and took another path to reach the sea.

"Now look to this one" the nurse said mockingly, pointing her gloved finger at the young woman writhing on the bed, her sweat and blood staining the otherwise pristine hospital bed. "She isn't even able to push"

"She might be too tired, she has been in labor by three days straight" objected Aglaia. "Maybe it's best if we ..."

"Who the hell do you think you are? You are here to learn the job, not to teach it to us!"

"Listen, we know what's it, okay?" intervened another nurse, trying to sound more placating. "We know what is an actual emergency and what is just some kid who desperately needs to get fucked at twenty and then can't handle the consequences. Right?"

The last part, along with a glare, was addressed to the patient, who cowered as much as she could, weakly asking for help.

"Aglaia, go call Dr Farella, we're giving her the episiotomy"

The hawk soared high in the deep azure of the sky; it circled a couple times, then launched itself somewhere past the point Aglaia could see. She smiled, and continued her trek.

The nuraghe should't have been far by now. She had already seen this one, back on that vacation that had sparked her love for Sardegna; this path was the same she had walked with her parents that time. A trip down memory lane, quite literally.

Now she would have had to pass a canal, cross a bridge, and then walk straight for another couple miles. She would have had her packed lunch there, rested a bit, taken some pictures, and then headed back. A day of perfect relax.

The cicadas were crying so loud that day, prompted by the intense heat. But amidst their choir, Aglaia could make up the running water of the canal, and - that song.

It was the very same song she had heard in her trek of two weeks before, the one who, she had to admit with some embarassment, had pushed her to run from her intended path. The same sad and sweet voice; the same incomprehensible lyrics in Sardinian.

Again, Aglaia felt her skin crawl, but this time, she stood her ground. It was ridiculous! It was just a song, probably the favorite of some trekker who coincidentally took the same paths of her. There wasn't this much choice on an island, after all. It was beyond absurd to be scared.

This time she would have gone forward. She had to, to reach the nuraghe, and she wasn't about to renounce her trip because of some suggestion. Now she would have reached the canal, seen the woman, greeted her and passed by. And everything would have been fine.

Here she was. Bent on the canal, tan, a long aquiline nose, a cascade of black hair, brows furrowed in concentration on what she was doing; washing clothes in the water.

Really! Aglaia had never thought that there could still be someone who washed clothes by hand in water bodies. Maybe the woman was from a very backwards family ... or maybe, her washing machine had broken and she was trying to bear the situation with dignity, acting as if everything was normal.

Now closer, about to cross the bridge, Aglaia was about to shout a greeting, a wave, and then go on her path, when her gaze fell on what the woman was actually washing.

There was so much red. What once should have been a lavender nightgown was now painted by a big crimson stain in its middle, the blood dripping and painting the surrounding crystalline canal a light pink; next to the woman there was another indument, a damp baby suit, its color impossible to understand with all the blood that completely covered it.

A scream escaped from Aglaia's lips, and she immediately tried to suppress it. This was the aftermath of a crime. She knew what she was seeing, it was impossible for a human being to lose all the blood she was seeing on these clothes and survive ... especially the baby. This woman was trying to cover up a murder, she was violent, dangerous, and they were alone here ...

The woman turned to look at her, and the nightgown slipped from her hands. Aglaia had to move, move, why had her body decided to freeze, what it had to do was run!

The woman screamed. The sound pierced Aglaia's hears, bringing tears to her eyes all by itself; it was different from anything she had ever heard even at the hospital, a cry of pure agony, despair and rage fused into one. Now she would have attacked her ...

She splashed Aglaia with the water of the canal. The young woman could barely elaborate on what an absurd, stupid move that was, that the liquid actually hit her face, and she fell down, screaming.

What should have been the barely warm water of a low canal felt like it was coming from all the rivers in Hell, a scorching thing that ravaged Aglaia's face, hissing and blistering on the spots of her face where it touched her.

Aglaia didn't even think: she scrambled to her feet, desperately trying to wipe out the liquid from her face and only managing to spread it further, and ran away, stumbling, falling, getting back up and running again, over and over, to her home.

Aglaia ignored the umpteenth message Dr Farella had sent her, asking her out. She would have had to see him in person anyway, et theh hospital, and tolerate his constant harassment. Not even the light disfigurement from the scalding water on her face seemed to deter him.

She had tried telling him she wasn't interested, and the answer had been to not be snobbish and an increase of the requests. She had tried, as politely as she could, to bring up the subject to the department head, but she had been completely ignored.

Nurses and obstetricians had made of her their personal stress ball, bursting out in screams at the minimal error or even without reason. And honestly, it was better like this, she could take it. It was a different question when they took it out on the patients.

Today it was another of such cases. Nurse Stefanini was making her wrath clear to a woman guilty of screaming too much during the expulsion phase. The poor woman was actually reining herself in, probably.

Especially because this labor was, once again, taking too long. Aglaia reached them, studying the track; the woman looked at her, at a complete loss, hoping in some kind of response.

Aglaia reached the nurse, avoiding to look the woman in her eyes. She showed her the results,

"The baby is under ..."

"Yeah, scream it for everyone to know!" huffed the nurse. "Do something useful and call Dr Paragnini, we'll need a Kristeller maneuver"

Aglaia shut up and ran to obey; the situation was even more serious than she had thought.

It seemed to take forever, finding Paragnini's office in the long white aisles that all looked the same, careful not to lose her way; as for the medic himself, he preferred finishing organizing his papers before, telling her to just wait. When she finally got back, the doctor in tow, the patient was gripping the metal bars on the bed with all her might.

"What is happening? What is happening?!"

"Hasn't the nurse told you?" asked Aglaia. She had been expecting to find her ready, scared, but aware of what was about to happen.

"Do you think one like her will understand?" Nurse Stefanini pointed at the woman, as if her appearence alone provided crushing evidence of her lack of wits.

Dr Paragini pressed all his weight on the woman's womb, causing her to cry in terror and surprise. Hadn't they debriefed her? It wasn't possible, the deontological code demanded informed consent!

"Aglaia, do you want to move?! Otherwise she'll never stop screaming!"

Aglaia ran, putting her own pressure on the woman's body. The maneuver, fortunately, was effective; two minutes later, the baby was out, placed at her mother's breast.

Aglaia felt relief washing all over her; she knew how dangerous this maneouver could be, the success was something to celebrate.

Still, she couldn't overlook the situation. Why had nobody asked for the patient's consent? What was she supposed to do in this situation, she couldn't expose the fact, she was just an intern, not even a doctor ...

"Excuse me" a feeble voice broke through her thoughts. "What do I ... how do I ..."

"Can't you take care of it on her own?" Aglaia immediately regretted her words. The patient seemed to make herself small, somehow smaller than the baby she held in her arms. No, she had to focus on her job. Not using vulnerable people as a stress anthidote, no matter how diffused the practice seemed to be in this hospital.

"Here, you held her like this. Do you feel strong enough to breastfeed her right now? Perfect. Here you go"

At least her social life wasn't limited to that damn hospital. Going around and chatting with other trekkers had given their fruits: Aglaia was now taking a nice stroll on a small town along a girl named Marina, who lived there.

It was a lovely place, a small fishermen town, the walls of ths buildings old and battered from the wind and sea, the smell of salt penetrating everything. Marina wasn't particularly impressed, having spent all her life there; she was talking about doing a 'decent' trip to Cagliari, as soon as they would have had enough coinciding free time. Aglaia didn't mind. Anywhere was fine, as long as it was in Sardinia and far away from the hospital environment.

All of a sudden, Marina's bored expression turned into a smile, and she strode forward.

She reached an elderly woman, so curved and signed that she seemed to have been sculpted into an old olive trunk; the two started talking in Sardinian dialect, so that Aglaia didn't understand a word and ended up standing there awkwardly, trying not to look too confused and hoping her friend would have remembered her existence.

"Sorry!" said Marina after a few minutes. "Aglaia, this is my grandmother. She was going to the marketplace, too"

"Nice to meet you" said Aglaia, offering her hand.

Marina's grandmother took and shook it, but her gaze remained fixed on Aglaia's burns. The young woman felt put under intensive examination, wondered how to react without sounding rude, and then the woman said something in Sardinian, still looking pointedly at her.

"She asked if you have met a panas" explained Marina. Ah, so her grandmother was of that old generation that didn't know standard Italian and only spoke regional dialects; Aglaia smiled kindly at her and then turned to her friend.

"What is a 'panas'?"

"An old legend we have around here. It says that a woman who dies in childbirth is condemned to wash her and her baby's clothes in penance, for a very long time. If someone interrupts her work she has to repeat by start, so if it happens she will get angry and punish the culprit by spraying boiling water on them" Marina pointed at Aglaia's blisters.

Aglaia stood still for a few seconds, trying to retreve her voice; when she did, what got out of her mouth was: "Penance for what? Did they murder their children?"

"No, no, just for dying in childbirth. You see, it makes them 'impure'. Ancient Sardinians weren't very progressive, sorry"

It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible. It must have been a coincidence, maybe some criminal had exploited the legend to get rid of the evidence and the water had been made hot by some totally explainable means ...

No, that sounded like Scooby Doo. Hell, the whole reason Aglaia still hadn't told anyone what she had seen was because she couldn't explain it! But there had to be a way, there just had to be a rational explaination for everything, she couldn't have met a ghost!

She forced a laugh. "Sorry to disappoint. I have these because my roommate let fall a pot of boiling water and I got drops on my face"

"Look at her, she looks like she's about to birth a frog!"

Aglaia, passing hurriedly by the aisle, had absolutely no cointext for this exclamating by one of the nurses. Her next charge, however, was to bring an oxytocine phlebo right in that very room, so that she had a privileged view over the issue.

The woman was as white as the hospital walls, but the bed she was on was a disaster. Her nightgown and the sheets were stained, dripping in subtle rivers of blood and an unidentified brown-green liquid. Had she defecated during the birth process? It was normal, why had the nurse even commented on it ...

No, that wasn't normal. That was too fluid, and the labor too early on ... that was her amniotic fluid. Her waters just broke, and instead of crystalline as they should, they were that mud color that had caused such ilarity in the nurses.

Ilarity, her ass! She had studied it over and over back in university. Meconium inalation syndrome: the child was suffering from a lack of oxygen, it had expelled his meconium in the amniotic fluid, and now risked breathing it, worsening the situation. If they did nothing, it would have suffucated.

The nurses were chatting among themselves, clearly not intentioned to do anything and just leave the poor woman to her own devices. She was trying to push, she was painful to see; Aglaia forced herself to stay impassible, to stay clinical, and still the result of her examination was anything but comforting.

She ran outside, finding Dr. Farella.

"Doctor, this is urgent. We have to do a caesarean"

"We don't have to do anything"

"Doctor, you haven't seen the situation, the amniotic fluid is ..."

"She can still terminate the birth naturally and it's better like this. Besides the fact that it saves us a lot on the costs, it will help her get her lesson. She had her fun with her legs open, now she gets the consequences"

Impure women, huh?

"The one waiting outside is her husband, not even the Damn Mother Church would have anything to say on that ... and even if he wasn't, that's not our business to judge, we have to ..."

"You have to shut up and listen to the people who actually have experience. She's carrying out the process naturally, and that's it"

It was only an emergence caesarean that prevented the disaster that day. The woman was cut open and stitched back up rather carelessly, of course without asking for her informed consent. The baby had to be brought to reanimation, but he was ultimately saved.

The doctor handed him to the patient, who laid exhausted and tearful among her own sweat, blood and other bodily fluids, and declared that she was clearly about to be a horrible, abusive mother, seen how she had already refused to suffer even to give birth to her son.

At last, Aglaia was due for a weekend back in Milan, with her family. It had been a long time since she had seen her parents, after all, so she could take a couple days away from the mountains and the beaches of Sardinia.

She stopped to a bakery before boarding her plane on Friday night: some traditional sweets were just what was needed to placate anxious, 'you-never-call' parents. A small package of sebadas would have done ...

And there, at the cash register, she saw the woman at the canal.

She recognized the tan, the long hair, the long and aquiline nose. The only difference was the expression: she was smiling, a bright smile that would have lit up a room.

Inside a framed picture.

The man at the register noticed her gaze. "Did you know my daughter?"

"Eh? No, I had just mistaken her for someone I know"

The man smiled, a small, wistful thing. "How old are you? Twenty-five? She was a little younger than you, in that picture"

The smile vanished. "She was pregnant, back then. It doesn't show, because I cut up the picture to focus on her smile, and not how ..."

He trailed off.

"I am sorry. Did something happen?"

"She died. Complications from childbirth. Neither her nor the kid made it. Weird, right? You think these things happened long ago, or maybe in some Third World country, instead ... there are people who don't believe me when I tell them, you know? Well, sure, you never expect that it will happen to people you love."

"I am terribly sorry. It's awful"

"The hospital was investiigated, of course, but ... well, they didn't find anything. Said that the doctors had done everything possible, and ... I'm sorry, now I am rambling. I shouldn't throw this story on every customer that passes by"

"It's no problem, really"

As she exited from the bakery, Aglaia decided that it had to be a scam. There were no other explainations. Maybe someone had sent the woman at the canal, and then the picturee, to conspire against her, to ...

Who was she kidding? She wasn't the target of a conspiracy. She was a perfect nobody, with no actual work and very little money to her name, living with a roommate in a tiny apartment. Nobody had anything to gain from her.

But then, what was this story?

The following days were spent in research. She actually spent very little time with the parents she had gone to see: her time was consumed by internet searches for the 'panas'.

She actually found her with no problem: a couple local newspaper had talked about her death. Her name was Arianna Lanzetti, she had been twenty-one, and already married. She also found the woman's former social profile: a Facebook page now submerged by messages of condolences and remembrance.

This was insane. This was all insane. And maybe she was going actually insane, because a particular idea was starting to take shape in her mind.

Usually, it was discomforting to be ignored as 'just an intern', Today, it was a blessing.

There weren't many women in the delivery room in that day and hour; if the hospital personnel did they job, they could have easily taken care of them without needing her. They probably wouldn't have even noticed.

Dr Farella, as befitting of his great intelligence, had left the computer on and logged into his hospital account; if he had returned too soon, Aglaia would have told him that Nurse Stefanini had sent her to check on a thrombophilic patient. if the nurse had denied, she would have played it as a misunderstanding. She could take it, she was used to everyone yelling at her and calling her incompetent.

She set on 'research file', and typed in Arianna Lanzetti's death date. The very same day as she should have given birth to her child.

There had been several births that day. Aglaia scrolled down, scanning the screen. Ludovica Fornasari, Vanessa Prosdocimi ... maybe Arianna Lanzetti had been in the care of another gynecologist ...

No. Here she was. Aglaia opened her file.

She hadn't known what to expect. Maybe some laconic report about the birth being more difficult than anticipated, due to 'lack of cooperation from the patient' and not, of course, from carelessness of the hospital personnel. She wasn't prepared to a horror story,

Arianna's baby was being expelled with the umbiilical chord wrapped around their neck. A critical situation, but not an uncommon one. All ostetrician personnel was prepared to deal with it. But they hadn't noticed. Farella, and everyone in attendance that day, had not realized the situation. Maybe Arianna had, she should have realized that something wasn't right. Probably, she had complained, tried to signal her fear. Surely, she had been laughed at.

They had seen too late, when the baby was already out, almost strangled. They had intervened in a hurry, doing a fretful episiotomy on Arianna, rushing to try and reanimate the baby, and it had been all useless. That baby had never drawn even one breath.

As for Arianna herself, her wound had been hastily stitched up, too badly: it had reopened, and she had been let alone for hours afterwards, with all the nurses avoiding her and the consequences of their mistake. Only hours later, at the insistence of the family, someone had checked and found out that she was dead.

It was almost too ridiculous to believe. Too absurd, too cruel. What that woman must have felt as she died, alone, without knowing what had been of her child ... Aglaia fought back tears. She felt like everyone would have discovered everything, if they had seen her in tears.

She drew deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Slowly, it worked. She felt suddenly very calm, completely in control. She had all the facts now, and she could act accordingly.

She had another plan now.

"I didn't take you for the type to do such things. To think you acted like a puritan! Not that I'm complaining"

Aglaia smiled through gritted teeth. She wouldn't have had to bear this act for long.

She looked up. Through the treetops shone the stars of Sardinia, so bright, so many. The sweet perfume of wet grass filled the air. The sound of the stream was closer and closer.

"Sooo ... do we get to it?"

"I know a better spot"

Farella huffed, but still followed her. The whole date had been insufferable: not only she had had to act like she was genuinely attracted by him, but he looked indignant that she hadn't jumped him yet!

As if she would let herself be touched by a murderer ... she still needed a little time. She still heard no song. At least, she could pretending she was getting cold feet.

No song. Farella put an arm around her waist. He would have accepted a no, right? They were alone in the forest by night, there was nothing that prevented him from - but his crimes were out of apathy and lack of care, she didn't know if he would have been capable of something as direct as to force himself on her ...

That thing she heard, was it the stream? A happy illusion or ... no, it was there, it was the panas' song!

She strode decisively towards the sound, leaving Farella behind.

"Hey, were are you going? Wait ..."

He was running after her. Good.

She removed her flashlight from the figure knelt over the water immediately, she didn't want to be the one to disturb her again. Just a moment, to make sure of where she was, then pointed the flash to the surrounding trees.

Farella wasn't smart enough to do the same.

"What the fuck ..."

The light showed Arianna's tan skin, her long, shiny hair, her aquiline nose. Her eyes were dark, fixed on the man - maybe she couldn't see him in the face, with that torch pointed towards her.

Aglaia directed her flashlight on him, fully illuminating his stunned visage.

The panas dropped her clothes in the stream and lunged. Aglaia had barely a flash of her long, thin arms protending towards them, and then she turned on her heels and ran, ran as fast as she could.

The screams echoed for a few seconds, then they were replaced by the splashing of water. After a few minutes, the lullaby resumed.

Aglaia sighed. Everything had gone well, and Arianna Lanzetti had received her justice.

She took the way home with a lighter step, turning her nose up to admire the beautiful sky of Sardinia, shining bright as she had never seen before.

The Carabinieri found nothing implicating Aglaia in the death of Dr Farella.

She was interrogated, of course; the 'gentleman' had bragged about their date with his friends, and the restaurant personnel could confirm that they had been there together the night of the 'tragedy'.

But she simply lied, declaring that they had parted ways after the dinner together: he had drunk too much and gotten inopportune, and she had dropped him, returning home by foot. Her roommate could attest to this, as she had seen her arrive walking alone from her window. Aglaia had been careful not to leave anything on the car that could be attributed to her, and in the end, they let her go without too much of a fuss.

Farella's death was ruled as an accident: as Aglaia had said, he was drunk, so he had driven to the middle of nowhere, taken an ill-advised walk in the forest by night, slipped into the stream and drowned because of his impaired reflexes. He couldn't have been killed, they had found no traces of other human presences around the area where the corpse was found.

There wasn't much of a fuss about the death itself. Farella was given a tearful funeral with family and colleagues going on and on about what a great man he was, what an example to all doctors; once he was under the ground, he got only complaints because his sudden disappearence upset the turn system and they had to procure another gynecologist on short notice.

Aglaia got some nurses blaming her because 'if she hadn't left him all of this wouldn't have happened', but by now, she was used to ignore those complaints.

Life to the hospital returned to its dull, pathetic normality.

Nurses and doctors still took out their frustrations on the patients. Interventions were denied, informed consent not given. Many women left the place shaking, in tears, only comforted by finally having their children with them.

Aglaia did everything she could. She was comforting, kind; she explained the medical procedures that should have been executed; she made sure nobody was left alone for any extended period of time; she did everything in her power to notify the higher-ups of any possible problem with the births that her colleagues might have ignored.

It still wasn't enough. She was only an intern; she had little to no decisional power in there. She was the secondary stress ball after the patients. She only did what she could.

Take the situation to the authorities' attention seemed impossible. Arianna's death and the number of cops at Farella's funeral had made it clear: someone here had important protections. Even if alerted, they wouldn't have done nothing.

Aglaia did what she could. She was a needed comfort to the patients; she never answered to the abuse the rest of the medical equipe hurled at her and instead offered smiles and little presents. She was just a treasure to have around.

And sooner or later, someone else here would have accepted her offer to go for a trek to the nuraghe, passing by the old canal.

#my writing #writing attempts #writing experiment #horror #horror stories #tw: death #tw: childbirth #tw: blood mention #tw: murder #tw: obstetric violence

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starrymused · 2 years

Note

Mason had burst into the room and immediately attached himself to Stefan on the couch. "So at my audition they wanted me to do a crying scene, and I'd just gotten lunch so it was hard for me to be sad, so I thought of the saddest thing I could think of in the moment and that was us breaking up, and then I failed the audition because I couldn't stop crying." He sounded frantic, but also strangely calm at the same time, ignoring all punctuation in his sentences and staring straight ahead at the wall. "It's okay the lady was too bitchy anyway, but like -- I think that's a sign we should get married."

A pause.

"I mean someday, this isn't the official proposal. I just wanted to pitch the idea first. I will do a way flashier one when I propose."

Mason was known for having a flair for the dramatic and Stefan was used to that, but what? This was so abrupt! Stefan didn’t know what to focus on first; Mason being so upset over a scenario that wouldn’t happen, the fact that he hadn’t passed the audition, or the talk of marriage. Leave it to Mason to throw a bunch of stuff at him all at once!

“Okay, let’s breathe and calm down.” He placed a hand on the back of Mason’s neck and rubbed gently to hopefully soothe his anxious mind. “Nobody is breaking up with anyone. I’m afraid you’re kinda stuck with me now.” Stefan smiled and nuzzled his nose to Mason’s cheek.

“I think marriage would be nice down the line. That would make me really happy.” He wasn’t the sort of person that required a ring by a set time. No, no, he didn’t need anything to be rushed, especially when they were both focusing on their careers. But this was a good talk to have to know how they both felt about the subject. He leaned forward to peck Mason’s lips, feeling the way the tension was gradually melting away beneath his fingertips.

#lannamused #&; ( STEFAN IC )#&; ( STEFAN ANSWERED )#&; stefan verse ( COLLEGE )

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borkthemork · 3 years

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The Wu Whereabouts Theory

Now that people are getting hyped for the month countdown toward Amphibia Season Three’s release, I am going to be talking about a theory my friend and I talked about over the past few months, and it’s time to buckle up because we’re going to be tackling this theory from a production, character design, and semantics perspective.

And why these specific factors? Because the theory revolves around these three characters.

And why I believe all of them are related in some way.

Now, you might ask yourself: Bork, how in the hell are these characters related? The old woman character doesn’t seem to have any semblance of features relating to Marcy. What about the dad, are you going to explain the dad? Are you pulling my leg?

And to that, we’re going to have to start small. I’ll first explain why the character on the right seems to be an important character to the story, how all these characters can be connected through deliberate design/semblance, and then I am going to hit it out of the park with the probability from a logical perspective with what the intro and past Marcy interactions seem to give us on why everyone is where they’re currently at.

Especially where Marcy’s father is currently located.

This theory is very, and I mean, very long, so hang on to your seats as we dive into my thoughts about where Season Three might lead us.

And credit goes to @CynDavilaChase on Twitter because she made me realize the probability of this theory in the first place.

And with that, let us begin!

Section One - Who’s This Woman?

With animated introductions, I think one of the big things I noticed with Amphibia Season Three’s intro is that it’s heavily serialized. Compared to Amphibia’s introduction with Seasons One and Two, there are a lot of animated scenes found in the sequence where the story is already being told in a narrative.

You get shots of Anne being introduced to her house, you get new important characters introduced in a lot, there appears to be insight into future events such as Anne getting a moped while being chased by government agents or the massive monkey robot chasing her through the alleyways.

A lot of the intro is prioritized over its serialized format, and that means the characters seen and animated in the foreground have to be important characters or else the studio is basically wasting time focusing on a background character that will never be seen again.

Of course, you get some sliding shots like with the construction workers or the beach scene with the beach-goers but that’s only for a second and they’re not truly the forefront.

But during the shots between 0:29 and 0:49, the sequences we see include a lot of what appears to be important scenes with important characters that will play some role in the story itself.

There are no parts in the sequence where background characters are put in the foreground. Each bit of the animation needs to count, it needs to tell a story of what’s to come and what the audience can anticipate to see.

Now that begs the question:

Why is a supposed random background character in the foreground?

We got some reason as to why the engineer lady looks important since she was in a shot full of important or supporting characters, but why her??

Sure, one could argue this shot could just be indicative of Andrias’s invasion, but there are numerous other ways to show that there’s an invasion without putting too much animation effort on one background character, especially from a composition perspective.

Pardon the messiness, I had to do this quick, but look at how all three ladies are lined up.

The far left grandma, when following from her head to the the front lady’s creates a line that not only creates a sense of direction for our eyes to follow but follows the more significant and foreground character of all three. Look at how the dragonflies occupy most of the top of the frame while the two older women stay in the marketplace’s form, and how this leaves the younger woman to be abruptly placed in the open — creating a visual that this character in particular is more important than the rest in the shot.

Check the way the characters move their eyes when the scene happens too: the background characters quickly look to the right, then the woman out in the open then directs her eyesight to the skyline, where all the dragonflies are flitting by.

Now, I’m not a storyboard artist or composer, I could be wrong on how the crew created this scene all together, but regardless it is still so odd to put emphasis on a background character in the front and then just leave it at that.

She has to be important in some way, and this is where I want to talk about character design.

Section Two - All Related or Am I Just Racist?

When it comes to character design we need to talk about how the character designers make sure to give Anne some form of semblance to her parents, and in this case, she looks a lot like her mother.

They got the bushy hair, the same skin tone, eyebrows, etc. And with her dad you could even see that Anne got her fluffy bangs from him specifically. Only one shared genetic trait, however.

This is deliberate, we know that for sure, and that is why I need to make this very clear as we transition to the similarities found in Marcy and the theorized characters, and why I believe they’re related in design. Mainly because the concept of race and appearance could be quite a debacle and I wanted to make sure that all of you know I am not assuming things out of naivety, and if I am, feel free to get my ass.

Other than that, let’s look at them again.

And here I shall compile the appearance stuff that each character seems to have.

With these three characters they seem to connect to one another with one genetic trait, but if one looks closely, there comes the question of the older lady (who I will just call Marcy’s mom at this point) and why she’s vastly different to Marcy when it comes to skin tone, hair color, and hell — if we look between Marcy and the engineer — why these two characters have vastly different hairstyles compared to the woman.

Even though I could give speculation and some doubt to the engineer and Marcy’s mom being related, and on first glance I couldn’t do the same with Marcy and her mom either, but then I did some digging and realized something. I can connect Marcy and her potential mom in one way — hair design.

Marcy and her mom both share the same poofy hair, it’s just that one is more short and the other is allowed to grow out in a nice little nest.

Don’t believe me?

They got the same floofy bangs with that specific hair line.

And when Marcy was little, Marcy appeared to need a hair tie because her hair was growing out, and it looked like this.

If we consider that what Marcy’s hair tie is holding up might be her bangs — bangs that might cover her eyesight from how floofy it is — then if you removed the hair tie then she and the woman would have a very similar looking design hair-wise.

Even with these hair similarities, however, there is still inquiry as to why Marcy is vastly different compared to her mother when it comes to skin and hair color, and here is where I go into some speculation to piece all of it together:

Marcy actually carries the appearance of her dad more than her mom.

Her dad has olive skin and black, straight hair, while her mother harbors tan skin and floofy, brown hair.

It’s this one piece of speculation that basically slides everything into place, but regardless it’s still speculation and one that I cannot confirm or even argue much about due to the nature of genetics and the limited info we have. But with this piece set in place, we could start to create the argument that maybe, just maybe, these characters are related.

But if they are, why do we only see Marcy’s mom and her supposed sister and not her dad?

Why do we get no indication of Marcy having a sister until Season Three?

How do we put all of this together?

Section Three - Distance and Finance

I rewatched True Colors numerous times when it came to understanding and interpreting what I could with the limited Marcy-centric flashback we had. I even went through episodes such as Maddie and Marcy, New Wartwood, and a lot of other episodes just to fit everything into place. And I think I have a good indication as to why this family is the way that it is.

First off, we’re going to be talking about Marcy’s dad and his new job out of state.

California is a very expensive state. And as someone who lives in California, the housing crisis and the ability to even stay in a house/dorm without sweating over the idea of being bankrupt is a very real thing.

So it is a curious thing that one of the reasons that the Wus had to leave came out to moving out-of-state due to a new job offer, one that infers a lot more money and probably a more stable living environment.

You could even hear the dad saying “Marcy, you have to understand!” when Marcy runs out, meaning that there’s probably a good reason as to why the parents believe that the move is essential, and I am banking on the idea of money for a number of reasons.

One, living in Los Angeles is expensive as hell.

Two, the coping mechanisms Marcy has makes sense if finance is the main comeuppance.

Three, the background art.

And four, why this girl has straight A’s and a PSAT book.

We already covered number one, but let’s take a look at what I mean about coping mechanisms.

Marcy Wu’s many flaws come from what looks to be the fear of being alone, and the fear of being seen as unvaluable and worthless; that if Marcy doesn’t prove herself lovable and essential to the people around her then she gets anxious and will do anything in her powers to make the people around her like her or stay with her.

She will omit information, move along objectives through passive and indirect persuasion, allow people to assert their will over her because they said so and, most importantly, does all of this because she fears the consequences when she gets outed or rocks the boat. Because rocking the boat means people will get mad at her, and she appears to try to avoid that situation of vulnerability like the plague until it all culminated into True Colors.

She is terrified of getting hurt. She is terrified, specifically, of consequences — punishment through stress, frustration, the people she loves looking at her differently because of the mistakes she’s made, etc.

Why do I say this? It’s because if we look into Marcy Wu with her pre-Amphibia self, a lot of these fears could be placed into that middle school scenario very well. Marcy Wu plays videogames and loves fiction because it is a form of escapism or happiness away from stress; she has this intense curiosity to basically anything of interest and uses that to thrive with getting straight A’s and an overall very solid record, but there’s still a probability that high expectations or making the people around her love her comes through said status of being the smart one (after all, she prides on her intellect, and sees it as essential to basically surviving the day to day).

Look at Marcy’s flashback in True Colors. She’s a middle schooler but is studying for the PSAT, which is mainly held in High School, and I’m no expert but I don’t think you read that stuff for fun or at least study it that early.

And I find it interesting that that’s the first shot we get of Marcy before we dive into her parents’ argument — education, studying, the expectation of high scores.

And then when you remember that Marcy is the least athletic of the girls, the thrift shop’s street she retreats to away from her parents is not that faraway from her neighborhood.

And this street, is messy as all hell. And with the revised background art for this area, nothing about the place changes but instead gets emphasized through more shots of how rundown it all looks!

The fact there’s a bail bonds building behind Mar-mar also doesn’t reassure me in the slightest.

So here’s where we are: Studying, getting good grades, a serious financial situation, lives near a rundown section of the city, high expectations, and the evaluation of one’s worth through intellect and academia.

What we are witnessing is a nuanced family situation. If we go by the assumption that the three girls’ lives are not only vastly different in personality but upbringing, then on an income scale, Anne would be middle income, Sasha would be high income, and Marcy is low income.

Her family’s struggling to be stable in a city that they can’t afford to live in, there’s a very high emphasis on good grades and education in the household, and the situation is so bad that her dad would take the proposal of a higher-paying job out of state than finding a similar job out in the city.

However, in this household’s struggle to have a better life, the parents had to focus on their children getting better living than them, and this means Marcy had to live in an environment where the biggest source of reward and praise is through intellect, academics, the approval of the parents.

And I could probably assume that this focus on finance also lead to very rough patches where Marcy was unable to be encouraged over stuff she loves like C&C or videogames, since the level of attention is low compared to the amount of happiness and pride her parents get when she gets an A+.

Especially when we consider that in the dialogue we hear from Mr. and Mrs. Wu, her dad is more assertive while her mom appears to care but doesn’t seem to go against her husband’s tone, so a lot of the probable issues might’ve come from Marcy wanting her dad’s approval and her mother never standing up for her when he became frustrated.

That would make a lot of context with Andrias even worse in retrospect, because that means the moment a male adult figure decided to care about her and give attention to what she loved, then Marcy fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

And could you blame her?

Now, let’s finally get a glimpse on one other character I’ve been neglecting in this essay.

This gal! Because if Marcy and her are somehow related, then we need to question why she was never mentioned or why she wasn’t involved in the conversation between Marcy and her parents.

I’ve done a massive theory post about this already, but the biggest probability comes in the design itself, since if Marcy’s sister went through trade school to be a mechanic/engineer then there’s a high probability she’s in her mid-Twenties. And if we consider that Marcy is 13, then Marcy would’ve been born when her sister was 12 or 13, and ultimately leave the household when she turned 18.

This means Marcy would’ve gone on with less contact from her sister for 6 years, and that’s a lot for a developing child.

It’s not improbable for Marcy to have lost contact with her big sister, or at least had lesser time to meet up with her due to work, college, or her own adult life now that she’s out of the house.

After all, in Maddie and Marcy, I find it very interesting that out of the advice Marcy could’ve given to Maddie about siblings, Marcy tells her that even though Maddie is the older sibling and is allowed to have her own life she suggests that maybe she should make some time for her sisters occasionally. Almost as if this was a ditto moment for her, that she understands but also had a good example of a sister who made time whenever she had the chance.

On more speculation terms, it would be cute to think that the reason Marcy has so much fire and spirit toward her fiction and love for games is because of her sister. After all, Marcy harbors the same interest toward engineering and robotics, it wouldn’t be a stretch in the imagination that perhaps her sister encouraged her to keep on going with what she felt passionate for regardless of their parents’ lack of response, to basically be unapologetic of what she loves, and this mantra kept her going for a lot of her life even when her sis went for trade school.

But let’s go on a side note here. I find it quite interesting that the character design of Marcy’s sis is also very telling, because not only does it tell a supposed story about who she was in the aftermath of graduation, but we could find a way to also put the theme of income and finance into her story as well.

Let’s be real these two are partners in all the way — from mechanics to engineers to straight up girlfriends, these two basically have their own business going on and I find it interesting that none of them just go with robotics or mechanics as a full-time thing, it’s mainly two jobs rolled up into one.

Why is that? There is some speculation that maybe they’re specialists and work in a very science-related area, but it seems highly likely that their main jobs are being car mechanics by day and robotic expert nerds by night. After all, the city can be hecked with money so I wouldn’t be surprised if they did two jobs at once to keep the lights on. I could also see them doing freelancing to repair or experiment with engineering projects since they take more money than actually makes in most cases.

Overall, money plays a big part with the family, and culminates to what I like to call a Massive Shitfest TM when they get alerted over the girls’ disappearances.

Section Four - Massive Shitfest Boogaloo and Where They Are Now~

In the aftermath of their teleport to Amphibia, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Wus had a big argument over Marcy and what should be done in the aftermath. Really, the family still needs to take that job because of finance, people are blaming each other over who pushed her to the brink, and then you have Marcy’s sister — who was probably out of the loop but probably knows how it was in the household — getting added into the mess of what just happened and adding her grief into the mix.

It is a blunder, terrifying and could break apart a family if I’m being honest. but what comes through is this:

People have now become stubborn in the Wu household, and no one is going to back down.

And what I mean is that Mrs. Wu, devastated by what happened ever since the argument in True Colors, will stay in Los Angeles out of grief and a supposed hope that Marcy would return. While Mr. Wu, determined to keep the finance going and keeping everyone stable and safe, abides by Mrs. Wu and decides to go out of state regardless, bringing back a flow of money to keep the Wu household stable through the aftermath.

It would make sense as to why Marcy’s mom is present in the intro but not any suspecting candidates for the dad.

Or how we see that there’s two older ladies with her in the intro. They might actually be close relatives who moved into the household out of the obligation to comfort Mrs. Wu but to also keep her company throughout this dark time in her life.

After all, when one loses a child, a lot of prior relations start to unravel as the status quo changes, and we are definitely going to see Anne confront the Wus and Waybrights when it comes to upbringing and home life.

But really, it is all up in the air. With Season Three around the corner, I am excited to see what the story has in store for us when it comes to the deep-diving into Marcy’s home life. She might’ve had a nuanced family life. She might’ve had abusive parents, perhaps no sister at all but a lot of relatives who grieved for her.

But with this theory out to the public, thank you all for reading along with this massive beast of a post, and I hope we get to see Marcy out of the aloe vera sauce very soon!

#amphibia #marcy wu #amphibia analysis #amphibia season three #amphibia theory #bork speaks #THIS IS SO FUCKING LONG

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raebayhc · 3 years

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Girls Night Out

warnings: implied virgin, fingering, lesbian implied, bi implied, public sex, smut, fluff, angst

word count: 2164

summary: you along with your groups of friends decide to have a girls' night for the first time in a while, things get heated and your friends end up taking turns using your body.

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It was a Thursday night and you along with the other ladies who went to the same college as you decided to go out and have a girls’ night. Yall planned on going to see a movie, going out for drinks, then finally retiring to Sasha’s barn where yall planned to stay up late telling spooky stories trying to freak one another out. Normally you wouldn’t agree to something like this because socially you were a lost cause, you had many friends and were very close to them. However, when it came to hanging out in large groups and even going out in public with the group, that’s when you started to get anxious. Your friends always had your back though and you knew that. Ultimately you decide not to fret too much and just have fun.

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It was the beginning of a very long night, you and pieck were roommates so yall got ready at the same time and left together to meet everyone else at the theatre. On the ride there pieck looked over to you and broke the silence- “if it becomes too much just let me know, I’m good to go home anytime.. Okay darling?” she patted your thigh and you nodded waiting for her warm hand to leave its place. It never did. She kept her hand on your thigh occasionally tapping to the beat of the music she turned on after yall briefly spoke. You felt your cheeks begin to warm as you peered out the window. Nobody within the group of friends knew you swung that way you wouldn’t dare tell them fearing the absolute worst. You knew they would love you no matter what and you never thought they would say anything hurtful but you still kept your little secret to yourself.

Piecks hand remained on you the whole car ride to the theatre. When yall arrived you hopped out of the car with intent... That intent being getting away from under piecks touch as you know you wouldn’t be able to hide your heavy breath for much longer. You played it off as getting “all excited” about seeing the movie when you really just wanted to escape. You waited as pieck slowly gathered her items and met you outside the car, yall then proceeded to walk through the glass doors into the theatre where the rest of the girls were already waiting.

“Yo what took yall so long??” Sasha said while stuffing her face full of popcorn. “Yeah, we thought we were gonna miss the movie because of you two” Ymir followed, whilst rolling her eyes. You look around to check everyone out, Historia and Ymir were clinging together, as usual, Sasha and Mikasa playing “hot hands” in the corner. You laughed as Mikasa gagged after Sasha got butter all over her hands. Pieck walked off to go meet hitch at the counter to get some candy. You giggled to yourself and told the girls that the movie was going to start soon and yall should probably head to yalls seats.

Finally, in yalls seats waiting for the movie to begin, you were sat between Sasha and Mikasa. You were definitely closer to these two than you were anyone else. Yall had been a trio since fourth grade and nothing could ever split yall apart. Nothing. All of the ladies were quite touchy with each other, it was all platonic of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Sasha snatched your right hand and hugged your shoulder burying her nose in the crook on your neck as a monster popped out at the screen. “Why would you choose a horror movie when you can't handle them” you whispered to Sasha to which she replied “because I like the way it makes me feel y/n, I get all tingly and itchy” you rolled your eyes holding back a chuckle so you wouldn’t disturb the others during the quiet scene.

You felt a slight tug at your left hand as Mikasa habitually grabs your hand. She tends to do that when she has nothing to do with her hands, it “helps her stay focused” she has explained to you a million times. Between Sashas breath on your neck and Mikasa drawing circles on your hand with her index you couldn’t help but squirm. You go to whisper something about the movie to Mikasa when she goes to do the same, your faces come within an inch of each other, noses barely touching you feel her breath out her nose as it fans across your lips. Your face turns bright pink as you halt in surprise. “I wanted to point out that actor….. Since we’ve spoken about them before…” she spoke softly. You replied with a small “me too…”. Yall have yet to part until you are broken up by screams as the movie takes a turn and Sasha yanks your arm “AHHHHH Y/N HELP!!!!!” Sasha screams in a high-pitched tone. You turn breaking your eye contact with Mikasa “Sasha! Be quiet we arent the only ones here!” you jab at her as you apologetically smile at the others in the theatre. You momentarily forgot about the moment you and Mikasa had until she takes her hand and places it on the back of your neck. Thumb swiping up and down, she pulls you a bit closer to whisper “awfully close weren’t we…” she lets that sentence linger before playfully giggling and removing her hand from your nape.

The movie was finally over and you were one of the last to leave your seat, since you decided to pick up all the popcorn Sasha had dropped after one of the jumpscares, you stand up, lifting your arms towards the ceiling, stretching and letting out a soft moan. You felt hands slither from the small of your back to the front of your hips “wow y/n, you have a hot moan. Whoever sleeps with you must be lucky” Ymir says before shifting you to the side to make way for her and historia. “Ugh, Ymir how many times do I have to tell you it’s not ladylike to talk about such things so casually” “I know I know I’m sorry... But it had to be pointed out” Ymir shrugged “she does have a point y/n.. You have an attractive voice it makes sense your moans would be..” historia pitches in and she looks you up and down before continuing “h o t” she lingers on the t a bit before moving on. You could feel your arousal pooling. The ladies seem different tonight... Maybe it’s just you... Maybe it’s not... They walk out and you follow suit.

You decide to ride with hitch since yall haven’t spoken a lot tonight, you ask her about life and she goes on to rant about her boyfriend noting that he’s not good in bed and she hates his haircut, she finishes her rant off with “ugh maybe I should just switch to girls! You’d date me right y/n?” you pause for a moment then reply with a simple “who wouldn’t!” a simple sentence yet complex at the same time. She turns to you and examines your face “you know I think id be a top if I were with a girl… in fact, you’d make a perfect bottom for me..” her eyes linger a bit too long, your skin crawling whilst illuminated by the red light yall were stopped at. It flashes green and her eyes return to the road “of course if I was single and into girls hahaha” she plays it off.

Yall arrive at the bar shortly after Sasha and Mikasa who had taken the same car and followed by Ymir who carpooled with historia. Mikasa and Sahsa hand out everyone’s paper wristbands, Sasha stops in front of you takes your hand, and putting it on for you. She didn’t do it for anyone else… just you. You decided you were overthinking and you moved on, walking into the club you were bombarded with loud music busybodies and the smell of alcohol. You were stressed, so many people, so many noises, so many smells. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Pieck noticed your uneasiness and placed her hand on the small of your back, she led you to a dark hallway filled with heavy pheromones and kissing partners, past that was a bathroom to which she leads you, pushed you in, followed after you, and locked the door. “Wh-” pieck covered your mouth with a single finger, “I noticed your stress, we can leave if you need y/n” a look of sorrow on her face. “No I’m fine it was just a lot at once I’m sorry, I’m okay now” you push out with a soft smile. Her body moving closer to you she wraps an arm around you pulling you closer “baby… tell me if you need anything, mmkay?” she purrs into your neck giving it a soft peck. Your arousal beginning to pool again you squeeze your thighs.

She excuses herself letting you go and leaving the bathroom. Turning around to face the mirror you scold yourself for acting the way you are when your friends are just being nice, they’d probably feel so grossed out if they knew your cunt was getting all nice and soaked for them, you thought. “Maybe I just need to relieve some stress… yeah that's all it is… built-up stress…” you hiked up the mini skirt that you decided to wear today above your hips and you pulled your new pink lace panties to the side. Beginning to slide your fingers over your unclothed clit the door rattles “hey bear, pieck said you weren’t feeling well so I brought you a dri-” historias sentence is cut short when she looks up to see you sitting on the counter sprawled open like a book. “I’m so so-” you begin before she hurriedly shuts and locks the door behind her.

“I- i- can explain-” she cuts you off before you get a chance to explain “oh bear..” a slight purr in her voice “who knew you had such a perfect pussy?.. All this time you’ve been hiding it from me?” she pouts, you’ve never seen her act this way much less talk this way before. Shocked by her actions you freeze, she steps closer and peers up into your eyes, lifting a hand to show she has her pinky and index slightly bent, she speaks “..may I?” if this was any other night you would freak out, apologize, get dressed quickly and leave, but for some reason you cant. “Please do” a slight whininess in your voice. Taking her ring and middle finger she traces a line from your entrance to your clit making you twitch once she reaches the small bud. She chuckles a bit and continues, pushing her middle finger into you, slowly but surely, you lay your head back resting it on the mirror. A low groan leaves her throat as you tighten around her finger “y/n… can I ask you a question? Hmm?” “nghh yes” you manage to push out through cries and moans. “You’re a virgin aren’t you, bear? Nobody has ever touched this perfect little body. Nobody has ever stuck their fingers in you either, huh?” you nod trying to keep sane while her pace quickens, you squint your eyes shut forcing tears out and down the sides of your face. Your response influenced her as she moved faster prodding another finger at your entrance and pushing it in with her other. “Ahh fuck ‘ri’” RI was a name you’ve called her since yall first met, originally made because you couldn’t remember her full name but it kind of just stuck throughout the years. “I’m gonna- I think I’m g-” cut off by the feeling of her warm tongue prodding your clit, dangerously licking and lapping, boy did she know how to please, and that she did. “RI oh shit” you grab a fistful of her hair as your orgasm hits, continuing to finger fuck you and lightly lick your sensitive bud she helps you ride out your high. “..- first, right?” you couldn’t make out what she said through your hazy mindset “what RI?” she repeats “I was your first, right??” you nod with lazy eyes, she smiles a big smile then gives you a sloppy kiss, you groan into her lips.

She cleans you up then helps you off the counter. Now realizing what had just happened you panic pushing out a quick “oh my goodness ri I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to put you in that position” she chuckles “don’t worry bear there are plenty of other positions I plan to have you in” before you could really digest that she tugs at your wrist leading you out to the main hallway and back to your groups of friends. The night has only begun….

THE END Pt. 1

this is my first fanfic ever so I'm sorry if it's bad!! I will continue to improve trust me! also, this will be a multi-part series so stay updated!

#aot #girls love #fanfic #smut #pieck finger #historia reiss #mikasa ackerman #hitch aot #ymir aot #sasha braus #mikasa x reader #sasha x reader #hitch x reader #pieck x reader #ymir x reader #historia x reader

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sleepysnk · 3 years

Text

here is the sequel to jaegerbomb is streaming! i hope you all enjoy ♡!

Jaegerbomb Has a Guest

Pairings: Streamer!Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, small nsfw mention if you squint

part one.

"Fuck! Oh my god bro,"

Eren leaned back in his chair seeing that he just died again in the game he was playing. He had lost for the third time and he was getting extremely annoyed, a few people in the chat were telling him he was okay and he didn't need to get mad; but it was Eren.. he always got mad.

He grabbed his controller before looking at the chat. "What are you guys up to right now?" he asked.

Eren put his attention back onto the screen, entering another round of the game he was playing.

He pressed a few buttons on the controller and scanned his eyes over the targets he had to kill, it was a zombie game everyone was suggesting and he couldn't get past this certain round. It was pissing him off.

He started to press the buttons at a quicker pace but unfortunately, he died again.

Eren slammed the controller onto his desk. "Bro what the fuck! This shit makes no sense, I'm done. Wack ass game," he said, rubbing his temples.

He looked over at the chat to see people messaging him.

jaegerist3452: eren just lay off for a bit

iloveeren_: eren is mad again guys

erensimp43: damn it ain't that hard

jaegerbombfan20: better luck next time eren!

He sighed, "It is hard what do you mean? Man.. you don't even know," he said before shaking his head.

A knock came from the door, Eren averted his attention to where his bedroom door was; he heard it open a bit and saw his girlfriend standing in the doorway.

"Is everything okay?" she asked in a whisper.

Eren removed one of the earmuffs to hear her better. "Huh? Oh, yeah I'm fine baby."

She rocked on her heels. "You were yelling really loud and I thought you were mad," she giggled.

He smiled a bit, "Nah don't worry.." he replied before looking back over at the chat.

jaegerist45: who was that eren?

iloveeren1010: who were u calling baby?

erensbiggestfan1083: you guys heard that too?

jaegerist3452: omg do u have a gf?

jaegerbombfan20: wait.. weren't u dating that y/n girl? or weren't u talking?

Eren chuckled a bit, "Yeah I have a girlfriend guys.. but I don't think I want to make it known just yet who she is because I don't know if she's comfortable with that," he replied.

He looked over to see (Y/N)'s head cocked to the side. "Do they know?" she asked in a whisper.

He shook his head, "She's pretty amazing though," he added with a grin.

erensimp34: wait then what happened to y/n?

jaegerist45: why should it matter? maybe they stopped talking

jaegerbombfan20: idk it's just weird.. she was always in his streams and now she isn't.

iloveeren1010: they probably just faded maybe i dunno

Eren was getting amusement from the chat, it was true that (Y/N) had stopped coming to streams; it was because she lived with Eren now and she was his girlfriend.

"I dunno what happened to (Y/N).. she and I don't talk very much," he replied, running his fingers through his hair.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, Eren was such a sick bastard for that.

jaegerist45: oh shit

erensimp43: well damn, i guess shit happens

jaegerbombfan20: awe :(( omg

"Yeah I dunno.. but don't worry guys, I bet she's doing well," he smirked, his eyes flickering up at her.

Eren streamed for another 30 minutes before he decided to get off and chill with (Y/N), he didn't stream as long as before because he wanted to spend time with her.

"Babe!" Eren yelled as he exited his bedroom.

He found (Y/N) sitting at the kitchen table, she was on her phone. Her attention averted towards Eren, "Hi baby," she said.

He came over and kissed her head. "Hi princess.. what are you up to?" he asked, nodding his head.

She sighed, "Not much, I'm just on Instagram. Did you finish your stream?" she asked.

Eren went towards the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. "Yeah I did.. I wanted to spend some time with you," he replied, taking a sip of the cold drink.

She smiled a bit, "You don't have to babe, really. But I meant to ask," she said. "Are you ever going to tell your fans about me?"

Eren twisted the cap back onto his water bottle. "Yeah.. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it. I remember you told me that you wanted things to be private, so I respected that."

(Y/N) remembers at the beginning of their relationship when she told Eren about the privacy thing. She was still in college and she didn't want a huge amount of people rushing to her and asking about Eren, it made her feel shy and a little anxious.

"I mean.. maybe we can be a little more public, you know?" she said, chewing her lip.

Eren nodded, "Don't worry about it baby, I'll make it known that we're dating." he replied.

Eren was up streaming at the moment, he was playing Minecraft and his fans were enjoying the way Eren kept yelling if there was a creeper or a zombie nearby.

"Fuck y'all who decided that hardcore was a good idea, I am gonna have a heart attack," he said, his eyes narrowing a few times while staring at the screen.

He looked at the chat then back at the screen, his mind was too occupied with the thought of dying in the game than answering questions.

He didn't even notice (Y/N) walk in.

She was leaning against the wall, she was surprised seeing her boyfriend so focused on a game. It was different than seeing it on a stream, it was kind of cute.

His eyes flickered up, he jumped a bit seeing her there. "Shit.. babe, what are you doing here? I didn't even hear you," he asked, putting his hand on his chest.

She walked over quietly, "Are you busy?" she asked.

He looked at her, "Uh not really, I'm just streaming and playing some Minecraft. Why? Is something wrong beautiful?"

A few people in the chat began to send in messages.

jaegerist3452: ooo eren's girl is here

jaegerbombfan20: we should meet her eren!

iloveeren1010: can we meet her Eren?

erensimp43: did u guys see how soft his face got when she showed up? THAT WAS SO CUTE.

iloveeren_: that's so cute, can we see her eren? PLEASEEEE

He looked towards the screen. "I would love to introduce her guys, but I dunno if she's ready. She's a little shy," he replied, smiling at (Y/N).

She giggled a bit, "I'm not that shy! I'm just a little awkward.." she whispered.

Eren chuckled, "I mean.. they somewhat know you," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Maybe it is time Eren.." she mumbled, looking away from him.

He shook his head, "Do you guys really want to meet my girl? No gross shit! I'll block you," he said, looking at the camera.

jaegerist3452: YESSSS

erensimp43: i'd love to see her

jaegerbombfan20: of course eren!

jaegerist45: i'm down i guess

bigerensimp292: sure!!!

Eren muted his mic before walking over to (Y/N). "Are you sure you want to baby? You don't have to," he asked, cupping her cheek.

She fidgeted with her fingers. "I do but.. what if they make fun of me? I don't even think they know what I look like.." she mumbled.

Eren tilted her chin upwards. "Princess.. you are stunning, okay? If anyone is rude to you I will whoop their ass," he said. "Okay? You'll only be there for a few seconds."

(Y/N) took a deep breath. "Okay.." she whispered.

He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "I'll go turn off my camera and then I'll have you sitting on my lap, okay?" he said before making his way towards his setup.

"Okay!" she replied.

Eren sat down in his chair. "Hold on a sec you guys.. I gotta get the special lady ready," he said, turning off the camera.

iloveeren1010: this is exciting OMG

erensbiggestfan1083: why do i feel like he's gonna bring an animal in or something

jaegerbombfan20: she's lucky

jaegerist3452: eren hurry ur ass up i wanna see her

(Y/N) stood in front of Eren, her heart thumped in her chest. "I'm really nervous.." she said, chewing her bottom lip.

Eren held her hand, "Come here.. just take a seat." he said, patting his lap.

She positioned herself onto his lap, Eren adjusted her legs and kissed her head. "Here we go.." she whispered.

Eren fixed his mic, "Alright.. no rude shit, okay? If I catch any of you horny fuckers saying something I'll block you," he said.

(Y/N) watched Eren turn the camera on, she could see herself on his other monitor. "Hi.." she said, waving a little bit.

Eren kissed her cheek lovingly. "This is my girlfriend.. (Y/N)."

The chat suddenly began blowing up with messages.

jaegerbombfan20: OMG OMG IT'S Y/N!!!!

jaegerist3452: I FUCKING KNEW IT OMGGGG

iloveeren1010: she's so pretty Eren!!!

jaegerist45: well would u look at that, you got a winner Eren

erensimp43: AWWW Y/N IS SO CUTE HOLY SHIT

erenswife4938: i had a feeling it was her but u guys are so adorable 🥺🥺

(Y/N) giggled as she read the messages. "Thank you guys," she said, a smile forming onto her face.

Eren drew circles into her thigh. "Yeah she's amazing.. I'm so glad I found her," he said, leaning his head by the crook of her neck. "Be nice okay guys? She's a little shy," he added.

jaegerist3452: i love this so much

erensbiggestfan1083: what a simp

iloveeren1010: i shipped it so much from the beginning! i'm so happy for you Eren!!

jaegerist45: GO ERENNN

jaegerbombfan20: eren she's so pretty

Eren looked at his girlfriend. "They think you're pretty babe," he said, smiling.

She felt her cheeks growing warm. "Thank you guys, really." she replied.

Eren snuggled her body closer to his, the warmth radiated onto her skin. "She is really pretty.. she's the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he said.

A smile formed onto her features from his words. Eren was always a sweet guy, he always had ways of making her feel like a princess.

jaegerist3452: how do u feel about y/n?

"Babe you got a question," she said, nudging his arm.

Eren leaned up a bit to read the question, his eyes narrowing a bit.

"How do I feel about (Y/N)? Shit.. do you wanna know?" he asked, his eyes averting up towards his girlfriend.

A bunch of people began spamming yes. Eren decided to answer the question.

"Well being honest.. she's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me. I usually don't go after fans but she was different, I couldn't ask for a better person in my life, I love (Y/N) so much, she doesn't even know how much she means to me. I'm convinced she's my soulmate.." he said, his heart hammering in his chest.

(Y/N) smiled, she felt like she could cry from what he said.

jaegerbombfan20: that is so cute 🥺

jaegerist3452: AWWWW

erensimp43: that's so adorable OMG <3

"I love you.." Eren said, looking up at (Y/N).

She put her arms around his neck. "I love you more baby.." she replied, pecking his lips.

He smiled, his eyes were full of love and happiness. "You make me so happy.. I'm convinced you're my soulmate," he said.

She cupped his cheek, "You're definitely the one for me Eren.." she whispered.

He peppered her face with kisses, laughter began to escape her mouth when his lips touched the skin of her face.

"But yeah guys.. this is my girlfriend," Eren said, a smile on his face.

erenfan3281: do u dick her down good?

"Okay that's where I end the stream! Goodnight guys!" Eren said before clicking the button to end the stream.

(Y/N) giggled a bit, "Was that necessary?" she asked.

He looked at her, "Duh! That's weird to ask.." he mumbled.

She leaned her head onto his shoulder. "It is weird.. but you do dick me down good," she said, a smirk forming onto her features.

Eren raised a brow, "Oh? Is that so? I knew I always did."

She hit his arm playfully. "Shush! But since your stream is over.. Can we cuddle up? I missed you.." she asked, a pout obvious on her lips.

Eren took off his headset. "Of course we can princess," he replied, kissing her head. He tapped her thigh, "Go lay down and I'll join you in a sec," he added.

(Y/N) stood up and stretched a bit, she heard a few of her joints cracking as she moved her body around. She made her way to the bed and lied down on the sheets.

Eren turned off his computer and walked to the bed where she was, he smiled seeing the way her body was spread on his bed; the sight made his heart swell. He lied down next to her, opening his arms which she gladly leaned into.

"Eren..?" she said, her voice in a whisper.

He looked down, "What's up?" he asked.

"I love you.."

"I love you more beautiful.."

tagging: @levithestripper

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

Coffee & Meetings

Relationship: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!Reader Warnings: stalking, drugging TW, manipulation, Summary: Prequel to Pastries & Memories - Bucky sees you day after day at a bakery and decides you’re just perfect for him. All from Bucky’s POV. A/N: someone suggested this on ao3 and i really liked that idea so I hope i did it well! I am thinking about expanding this to a bit of a mini-series... :)

Masterlist

Six months earlier…

He first saw you on a Monday. A bright, sunny, lovely Monday morning. He hadn’t even been looking for you — hell, he hadn’t really been looking for anyone.

Bucky was planted at a little table in the corner of a coffee shop, sipping on a dark roast, watching people come and go on the sidewalk. It had become his new morning routine, an interesting yet annoying suggestion from his therapist. She had become concerned he was too into his previous routine. She wanted him to step out of it for a bit, expand horizons, maybe even find a hobby. The craziest thing he had done yet was this — drinking overpriced coffee at a local shop.

He had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes he looked forward to this new start to his day. Everyone at the shop was always nice to him, amazingly. They didn’t mind him dilly-dallying, nursing his coffee, as he people watched. They even had a bakery attached which was part of the attraction to the place for Bucky. He had smelled their pastries one morning and was hooked.

As Bucky sat watching the people, he was contemplating getting an almond croissant to go when something caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, like a little flash, he had seen someone that made him perk up.

It was her. It was you. You were standing in front of the bakery entrance debating on going in. You looked between the coffee and the bakery sign. You checked your phone then you walked in. Bucky watched as you entered the bakery, your face bright with the kindest smile he had ever seen as you greeted the cashier. He didn’t have to hear your voice to know it was contagiously joyous.

You were like a little tease standing around all those baked goods, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you pointed at which donut you wanted. Bucky suddenly felt hungry for something else. Especially when you bent over to point at the strawberry glaze on the bottom row.

But then you were gone as fast as you had come. He watched you from the window as you got back on the path to wherever you were headed, he guessed your job. Your hair blew in the wind. Your skirt bounced as you walked proudly, your hand grasping the box of donuts tightly.

Oh, yeah, Bucky thought, this new routine was definitely what he needed.

***

You quickly became the most exciting part of Bucky’s day.

With his cup of coffee and hawk-like gaze, he’d sit at the little coffee shop table, watching the world outside the window. You’d come strolling by fairly early, looking so classy and professional. He figured you worked in an office which seemed very unnecessary for a girl like you. You didn’t need to work, he decided. You were too beautiful, clearly too bright, for that.

But you never seemed to recognize this yourself since you were constantly strutting past in your blouse and skirt, stopping in every day to collect some new pastry for your coworkers.

The way you talked to the bakery staff was what really won Bucky over. You were so gentle and patient when the kid behind the counter fumbled with the boxes or accidentally grabbed the wrong item. You’d still shoot them your lovely smile and make light conversation as they rang you up.

You were too generous, especially noted by the strawberry cake you had purchased one more for your work. Whoever was on the other end of your kindness better appreciate it, Bucky thought. He also didn’t miss your obvious love for strawberries.

Bucky watched you for a while, almost for two whole months, in that coffee shop seat drinking in every inch of you. The baristas didn’t seem to mind his lingering. He always made sure to order two cups as some sort of compensation for letting him sit there and watch his girl. Yes — his girl, that was what he had marked you as in his mind. You hadn’t noticed him yet but Bucky wasn’t sweating it. All in due time, he silently promised you.

It took Bucky a few days to gather what was needed. You still weren’t noticing him but he was way past being bothered by that. He had been screwed by life enough to know that sometimes you just have to take what you want. Sitting around waiting and hoping was for men who had patience. He was over it. Little worked out for him so now he had to make it work.

The morning of the commencement of the plan, Bucky stood in his kitchen double-checking the items needed. Content with it, he carefully drew up the correct amount of light sedation into the syringe. It wasn’t anything crazy and apparently affected the mind first, body second. You’d be on autopilot for a bit, walking more like someone who was just having a rough day. But that wouldn’t be an issue because Bucky would be there. He’d be able to escort you to his apartment, simply appearing as the concerned, protective boyfriend among the sidewalk pedestrians. He got a bit giddy just thinking about it.

Moments after you were properly sedated, he’d need to administer you another drug in a timely manner. This one would be focused on memory loss. He’d discovered it on some corner of the black market while originally on the look for types of sedation. Apparently, this drug was part of some sort of failed spy mission in Europe. The seller swore it boasted good results, citing studies conducted. Bucky looked into it and agreed. After some clumsy navigation in the world of online shopping, it was his within a few days. The concoction seemed like it would do that job.

The goal was to pretty much scramble your brain just a little bit. Nothing crazy like making you totally forget key components of yourself but still hit a point where you didn’t have enough to fight Bucky’s word on, well, anything. This drug wore off, though, so he would have to come up with ways to get it in your system over the course of your relationship. It was still worth it to him. He wasn’t stripping you off your personality, just some little details here and there. You’d still be his shining girl, just only now focused on him.

The final items laid out were various feet of rope. Bucky was being overly cautious with this. He didn’t know if anything actually was going to work. What if you woke up and realized you weren’t in your apartment? That you were being watched over by a stranger? You were bound to panic but he understood that. If need be, he could restrain you while he figured out the right way to go about it all. It would never be to hurt you, of course — in fact, he felt it was more for your safety than anything.

After another run of the mental checklist, Bucky gathered the syringe and headed out to the coffee shop. The idea was fairly simple. After you came in for a box of pastries, he’d head out behind you, try to chat you up a bit. He had some old moves he could flex. Once you got comfortable enough, he’d make the move and then lights out. By the end of that day, you’d be making yourself comfortable in his apartment.

Bucky practically fawned over the idea as he walked. He had taken some steps earlier in the week to add some things for you in the apartment like ladies’ toiletries and new outfits. He had even finally purchased a real couch. All for you, so you could have a home. A real home. With him.

Bucky was still lost in his daydream as he sat in the coffee shop, looking between the clock and the window. He waited and waited and waited. The syringe growing heavier and heavier in his pocket as the seconds went by.

The clock struck a new hour. Something Bucky never planned for was unfolding: it didn’t look like you were coming today. He almost about lost it there. Almost went into the streets stomping away in anger. Everything was perfect, how could you just be the only missing piece? Did something happen? Were you okay? Gosh, he should’ve got to you sooner—

Your hair suddenly came into view. You were walking furiously, just glancing at the bakery this time before deciding not to go in. You looked anxious which certainly wasn’t like you. He wanted to crush whatever was making you feel such a way. But Bucky had to snap his thoughts back. You weren’t coming into the bakery. He wouldn’t be able to follow you out, to casually build-up to this moment. His heart was pounding. He panicked.

In a moment of stupid impulsivity, Bucky quickly left the coffee shop and began racing to catch up to you. He took long strides, quite amazed by how fast you walked in those heels, but it didn’t take him very long to now be right on your tail. Few more steps and he was able to pop up right in front of you. You jumped at his sudden presence. Bucky smiled, finding you so amusing.

"Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I think you dropped something." He lied through his teeth so gloriously, way too easily. It was just the right comment to get you to stop in your tracks but didn’t completely scare you off.

Your brows furrowed, adorably confused. You looked down, searching for whatever it could be. "I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I did."

Sir. The word stuck with him a bit. Maybe after some coaxing, you could always be calling him that. Bucky didn’t have much time to think about this, though, as you began to step around him. You had taken his moment of silence as a way to evade him. Smart, but frustrating. A mix of annoyance and anger shot through him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into him quickly. You let out a yelp in surprise. He ignored it and before you could ask any questions, the syringe was plunged into your neck. To outsiders, it looked like a couple in some weird embrace, but to Bucky, it was just the beginning of something beautiful.

He got you back to his apartment fairly easily after that. You were eventually out cold and the next step of the process could begin. He was pretty much banking on the memory loss solution. Not a very religious man, Bucky still said a silent prayer as he administered it.

He took a step back from his bed, watching you look so at home knocked out on it. It was a wonderful sight, one he was saving in the back of his mind, even though he’d now see it every single day. Feeling quite content with how smoothly that all had gone, he had nothing to do now but wait for you to wake up.

Bucky took this free time as a chance to begin cutting off connections you had. Thankfully, your bag held your laptop along with other necessities like your phone and wallet. He was pretty thankful he wouldn’t have to try to get into your work to grab your devices. That would rely too heavily on whether or not you overshared. No one would believe he was the concerned boyfriend if just last week you ranted about how single you were.

Sliding onto a stool at his kitchen counter, Bucky set up your laptop. The first thing he noticed was your lack of password. You were too trustful, too good, and that was only example A. Bucky suddenly felt so relieved he had you in the safety of his apartment. There were lunatics out there.

Bucky navigated your laptop fairly easily. While he was pretty new to the technology scene, he could at least find the basics and you weren’t exactly running some government-level device. With a few simple taps and clicks, he was writing out messages to your boss and family.

He put in your letter of resignation, something short and vague, to your boss at the public relations firm you were an assistant at. Lower level work, not even anywhere near the big dogs. No wonder you constantly brought in treats for everyone. You were hoping your kindness would get you ahead. Bucky shook his head at your naivety.

A simple Google search showed him you were not the only assistant to the head of the firm. You probably wouldn’t be missed. The pastries, maybe, but you? An assistant? Someone would take your place within the week. Bucky was turning out much better for you than he had realized. He mentally patted himself on the back as he moved onto looking into your family.

Scrolling through your email contacts, it appeared you only had a sister for immediate family. No mentions of parents and… sure enough, another search brought up an obituary for your mother. No mention of a father. Even better, he thought. You needed that strong, guiding force.

A few scrolls through your current email thread with your sister and Bucky found out she was studying abroad. Could this all get any better? Nothing was in the immediate area of a threat. He responded back to the last email your sister had sent. Copying your language the best he could, he dropped some hints that you wanted a vacation. In just a few more exchanges he could drop the news that you were off in paradise. Correspondence could easily fizzle out and your sister would be too caught up in her European dream to notice an absence.

If this ever called for any more attention, Bucky figured he could easily invite her over. It’d take some training but you’d eventually remember your sister — or, what Bucky would plant in your head about her — then you’d happily host a dinner. Introduce your two favorite people to one another. He bought himself enough time to spend with you.

Of course, Bucky realized he got very lucky with you. He had done some minimal research beforehand but everything had been behind sign-in walls. He didn’t know if he was really ready to break into social media and instead decided to risk it. If all had gone to shit, like you having a real big, caring family or a prestigious job, there wasn’t anything a little talking couldn’t fix.

But Bucky had also kind of already knew you as he watched you day in and day out. He had felt that dire need to be comforted, to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected behind those cheery smiles and generous small talk. You always tried too hard as if you needed everyone in the world to love you, to praise you. That wasn’t it at all. You just needed him. And he needed you.

Lost in his dreamy thoughts, Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin (leave it to you to be the first person to actually scared him) when your soft voice called from the bedroom doorway.

"Excuse me," You said, nervously fidgeting as you slowly walked from the hall into the kitchen. "W-What’s going on?"

Bucky shut your laptop quickly and hopped down from the stool. He gave you a warm smile which you seemed to try to return. So obedient and caring already and you didn’t even know why — yet.

"Hey, doll," he said, keeping his voice steady and gentle. "You okay? You laid down for a nap earlier. I was worried you were getting sick." He placed a hand on your forehead pretending to check your temperature. Thankfully, you allowed it. After a moment, he pulled his hand away with a curious hum.

You frowned, obviously confused, much more than you were earlier. You looked totally clueless at the situation. It was the best reaction Bucky could’ve ever hoped for.

You glanced around the living space. "I- Yeah, I think I’m alright… I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember much. Who are you?"

Bucky chuckled, "I’m your boyfriend. Bucky. And this is our apartment. You remember, don’t you, honey? Maybe you’re just still a bit sleepy."

He watched as you blinked a few times, probably wrestling with whether to admit you really didn’t remember anything or to go with the lie. If you were a good girl, like he predicted, you’d settle with the lie.

"Oh." You bit your lip and eventually nodded. Jackpot. "Of course. Again, I’m sorry. I must’ve been really tired." You glanced over at the clock. It read just before noon. "I’m a bit hungry. Would you like anything, B-Bucky?"

He smiled. "A sandwich would be great, doll."

You nodded once in acknowledgment then began hunting for everything you needed in the kitchen. You looked a bit confused at first but slowly Bucky saw you get the hang of it. He took his place at the kitchen counter again, sliding the laptop out of your sight.

He sat there waiting and observing as his new girl began making him lunch. It was a sight he had dreamed of, but Bucky also knew this was too perfect too soon. You were bound to stumble within time but that was okay. He would have to fine-tune the details later but he was already complying some ideas on how to shape you into who you were destined to be.

Yes, he had a long way to go, but it would all be worth it if he got to come home to you standing in his kitchen whipping up a special treat like the sweetest housewife to ever exist. Because that certainly would be the next step down the line — making you his darling wife.

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let-it-show · 2 years

Text

Deluge Pt. 3 - Forbidden Fruits/Sensuality

Day 3 of Elsanna week! It’s coronation day, and of course Elsa is tense. She also, well, gets a big talkative and as she does so, reaaally starts to notice things, notices Anna.... But hey who the hell is this guy?? Part 2 is found Here! ~**~***~ Coronation day went about as Elsa expected. Almost. It started with help from two of the bedchamber ladies, whom Elsa had employed in recent years though she rarely actually used their help. Her dress however was a bit much to manage with the cape she had made. It was longer than anything functional should be and thus the whole fuss of getting into her clothing needed extra hands. Once dressed, she rehearsed and rehearsed. She needed to be able to hold the orb and scepter without growing too anxious about the giant step she was taking in her role. No matter what she did, ice spread over the objects and snow threatened. Even if people had an idea of her powers, she wasn't ready for a full display on such an important day.

Part of her longed for Anna at her side, but she couldn't use her as support. After so long of pushing her away...she couldn't ask for her help. She wasn't even sure where Anna was, either. Her best guess was that the younger woman was enjoying the festivities, meeting foreign dignitaries and receiving many wonderful gifts simply for being a part of a royal family.

She saw Anna again when she was sworn as queen. Anna waved at a man in the audience, and Elsa had to swallow the jealousy that shot through her.

Somehow she made it through the ceremony.

The dance and night of celebration afterward was a different story.

Elsa didn't know what made her do it. Maybe it was the awkward, lost expression on Anna's face when Kai pushed her toward the queen with hardly any space between them. The look surprised Elsa - Anna had been constantly trying to be near her, why was she suddenly so shy? Maybe because it was a crowded and less personal setting, she reasoned.

So she would say it was an effort to calm her sister that made her do it. "Hi," she said suddenly, softly, turning toward her a little.

Anna's eyes went wide and she sort of looked around before looking at Elsa and pointing at herself. "Hi me?"

Well, she couldn't take it back, so she nodded. "Mmm hmm. ...Anna...you look beautiful," she added without catching herself.

It was true, though. Anna, in her coronation dress, she was gorgeous. Her freckly shoulders were bare and the light danced off her skin. Her hair was in a bun and while Elsa preferred it down, there was something about so much of her bare neck on display. She felt drawn to it. Then there was the way her chest nicely filled out her bodice. Anna's chest was smaller than Elsa's own, but still a pleasure to look at.

That was the wrong way to think and Elsa immediately hated herself a little bit for it.

She focused on Anna's face, and the little scar on her adorable cheek that was left from the night her ice crashed down. That nearly pulled her out of it. And then-

"Well you're beautiFULLER!" Anna announced and then made a face. "I don't mean - you're not - it's just that you're more beautiful-" She motioned with her hands in front of her chest, which couldn't possibly look right to anyone watching.

Thank goodness for Anna's awkwardnes pulling Elsa's thoughts from where they shouldn't be! She laughed, covering her mouth and making sure not to have an all out, overly loud, undignified roar. Anna was funny! She always was. Elsa loved that about her, just as she loved so much about the dear girl.

Maybe it - maybe it wouldn't be so bad if for one day, one, sacred day, she didn't actively push her away. She could blame it on the wine she had yet to drink, or something.

"I know, I know Anna," she said, holding out her hands and motioning for her to stop. "I know exactly what you meant, and you're being too kind." Anna's eyes started to meet her own and Elsa quickly pulled her gaze away. She wasn't ready to look her in the eyes, not then, and she didn't know if she ever would be.

Elsa cleared her throat and moved on, watching the dancers. "So! Are you enjoying the party?"

"Oh! Yes, very much! It's warm in here though, very warm..."

As she chanced a glance at Anna, Elsa noticed her cheeks were a little red. "Are you well? I feel quite comfortable, and we know I'm more susceptable to the heat. And I have on more layers."

"I am, yes! I had chocolate earlier and went for a walk! There's just, so many people and the room is warm from all the...people breathing..." Anna trailed off lamely.

Again, Elsa had to cover her mouth. "Anna!" she expressed through her fingers before muffling her laughter.

Anna joined in the laughter too. "Yea, I guess that was pretty silly! It's true though! It's not a bad warm though Elsa, a good warm. I got to meet quite a few people today, and I helped with some of the decorations before I walked into the garden for a while, for some air. Gets stuffy in here sometimes, you know?"

Elsa knew too well. Hiding herself away over time meant wandering to lesser used parts of the castle once in a while and she felt like she inhaled more cobwebs than actual air. It didn't feel good. "I know. Who did you meet?"

"A few people, but I spent some time with a handsome prince from the Southern Isles! His name is Hans, and he has a beautiful horse. We have a lot in common! I hoped to talk more, but we separated before your coronation ceremony. He was at that, though!" Anna said it all quickly, in an excited ramble, as if she was worried Elsa would leave before she could get it all out.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Here you are talking about breathing, but did you do it with all that talking?" It didn't come out as gently as it should have, and Elsa regretted it right away. Her words had carried her attitude for a moment. Anna spending all day talking to a handsome man bothered her more than she would have imagined.

If she weren't so dangerous to her well-being, Elsa would have been the one to spend all day with the girl, making her smile.

"Oh. Yea." Anna took a deep breath then and raised her hands just above her chest, fanning herself. Elsa couldn't miss the way her breasts rose as she took that breath. Indeed, she was stunning.

Elsa looked back to the dance floor, where everyone was having such fun. They danced, they laughed, they drank and they ate fancy tiny foods off of silver trays that her servers carried around. Altogether, it seemed to be a successful celebration and to her that was a good sign for her reign. Let her people and those who visited enjoy themselves, and she hoped to always bring them such positivity.

"Hey, Elsa..."

Elsa looked to Anna inquisitively. "Yes?"

"Listen, we're just standing here watching everyone else have fun. What do you say we maybe, we um, we have ourselves a little dance like we used to?"

Such a hopeful smile was plastered on Anna's face. Her eyes were bright. Elsa's gut twisted painfully as she already knew the answer she had to give, even if part of her reasoning was entirely legitimate. "Oh, Anna...we cannot. It simply would not do..."

The smile wobbled. "Why? You can dance with your sister. No one minds."

"Perhaps, but I must receive our visitors should they desire to approach during the evening, and you know after a couple of songs some will tire and do exactly that." She wasn't terribly excited about it. Elsa would rather dance with Anna, she would rather waltz across the floor with her, but, she couldn't. Doing so would give Anna the wrong idea and she may push for Elsa's attention again.

Elsa and her magic weren't stable. She could feel the ice in her veins as they stood in the Great Hall, and while it was under control then, she didn't know it could stay that way when it counted. Anna needed to be safe, and keeping herself in check was the best way Elsa could guarantee it.

"...Oh." Anna sounded defeated, but not destroyed. Elsa's reason was enough to dissuade her without crushing her, and Elsa's relief was immense, at first.

Then she heard a man's voice.

"Princess Anna! Your Majesty, Queen Elsa!"

Elsa looked up to see the man Anna had waved to in the chapel. He was tall and handsome, with brown, well groomed hair and sideburns. Elsa supposed the sideburns were handsome, anyway, to her they made him look kind of like a monkey she remembered from a picture book she read years ago. And just like the monkey in the illustration, his nose was a bit big and something about him made her want to put the book away and leave the room, but it wasn't exactly an option.

"Hello," she greeted him with a little nod of her head.

"Hans!" Anna piped up and bounced forward, hugging his arm and pressing herself just lightly against him in greeting.

Oh, Elsa definitely didn't like him.

"Elsa, this is Prince Hans!" Anna looked between them excitedly before stepping back just slightly and tugging on his arm excitedly. "I was just talking about you!" she told him, gazing up at him in his too white suit.

The white of Elsa's own snow had a lot more shine. "Ah, yes, she was," Elsa added uselessly.

"It is an honor to meet you both, Your Majesty," Hans said with a little laugh in response to Anna. "It was a....a wonderful surprise to first meet Anna, and even better that she remembers me."

"Yes," Elsa said dryly, and then reminded herself to be calm. She could already feel the cold prickling in the ends of her fingers. "You said you are from the Southern Isles? Are other members of your family present, any of your royal council..."

"Oh, yes!" Hans seemed to straighten himself and Anna giggled. "But I believe they are preoccupied. A couple of your staff have been guiding others around the castle," he said as if Elsa didn't already know that, "They may be participating. Or, perhaps, at the ship."

"You don't know where they are?" Elsa pressed.

"Ah, no, you see I was so eager to see Anna again that I just..." Hans faltered, and Anna lightly smacked his shoulder as her cheeks reddened again.

"Listen to you! It's just me!" Anna insisted.

"Just you?" Hans retorted with what appeared to Elsa as a sly, reindeer-pie eating grin.

Elsa interrupted. "Well, should you locate the rest of your party, I would love to meet them and talk to all of you. I'm sure we have much to talk about." As she did with everyone, really, but Elsa felt that she ought to find out what Hans was all about.

"Surely," Hans assured her with a confident nod. "Now...I hope I do not overstep, but Princess Anna, may I have this dance?" he asked, turning and offering her a gloved hand.

The squeak that left Anna's lips was almost on a level only dogs might hear and Elsa made a bit of a face. "Yes! I would love that! Um...Elsa?" Anna was bouncing on her feet as she turned to Elsa, practically begging for permission.

"Go on. You deserve to enjoy the night," Elsa said, nodding. As much as she felt something about Hans was off, that didn't mean Anna should be punished. If she wanted to dance with a handsome man for a night, so be it. Maybe she'd meet another handsome man, someone with better energy to him, and she would go with him to a safe, wonderful home far away from her and her ice.

Anna broke into a smile that Elsa swore she hadn't seen in years. Then she hurried off with Hans, joining the crowd of people on the floor before Elsa.

In a way, it did feel like Elsa had handed her off to someone else, and she felt strangely about it. She didn't feel good, in fact, and watching them dance while Anna smiled made her want to throw up. That Hans guy touched her bare skin with his gloved fingers, his big palms on her thin waist. They ran over her in a way that made Elsa's throat dry, and that was just their placement in regards to the dance!

The way Hans twirled her made her dress fan out beautifully around her and Elsa wished she could be the one to do that. She could almost feel the floor getting icy under her feet and her long cape, which was a problem.

When an officer from a neighboring kingdom approached her to greet her, Elsa was only too happy for the distraction. In a way she was also genuinely happy to be meeting others and strengthening kingdom connections, something her mother had always pressed as vitaly important. And, it was, because other kingdoms played big roles in the well-being of her kingdom, which was exactly what she should be thinking about.

As such, she threw all her focus into doing such, even forming discussions with a little group in regards to special material trades and festivities. She kept herself formal, quick and to the point, and when they all walked away from each other she felt confident in what she was doing.

If she could just be a good queen, then she could make sure Anna wound up somewhere safe without letting sadness or jealousy take away from that.

Yet, as the party wound down, she didn't see Anna and Hans anywhere. Guests had spread all over the castle in the areas they were allowed, so not seeing them on the dance floor wasn't an emergency. Anna might stay up late talking with Hans or other new friends and she was probably absorbed in that. Elsa could go find her and verify for herself.

She did not.

When at last the night was considered late enough for her to reasonably retire to her bed chambers, she did. The longer she stayed at the celebration the bigger the chance something could go incredibly wrong. Elsa wasn't going to mess around. She was truly exhausted along with feeling the weight of the kingdom on her shoulders more than ever, so her bed was a welcome sight and feel. Sleep was something she craved terribly, both to get her rest and to make her mind stop trying to run away.

However, sleep did not come easily.

Elsa tossed and turned, thinking about Anna. She probably shouldn't have gotten so brave, talking to her and telling her she looked beautiful. There were so many way that the conversation she started could have gone wrong. In a way it was a good thing that Hans came along when he did and separated them from each other.

But watching Hans and Anna set her off. Something within her was already awakened when she looked at Anna and admired her skin. Watching them dance made Elsa want to touch Anna again, though, even if in just an old, familiar kind of hug. She wanted to hold Anna and rest her cheek on Anna's bare shoulders, inhaling the scents that Anna's neck had to offer.

She wanted to bury herself in her adopted sister. Anna brought her such love and warmth and everything a person could want, both emotionally and....and physically.

Was that thought so wrong?

Yes, yes it was.

Elsa growled as she tried to hide her head under her pillow and she could hear ice extend from the ground in spikes. That meant there would end up being more, and it was another night she would probably freeze her bedroom door shut as well. What was wrong with her, thinking of Anna in such a way?

Initially she thought the day had gone well, had gone successfully, and she finished it without any big problems to have to worry about dealing with later.

Elsa frustratingly admitted to herself that she was very, very wrong.

#Elsannaweek #Elsanna #fanfic #Elsanna AU #Frozen AU

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honestlywtfisgoingon · 3 years

Text

A Match Set

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Pairing: Benny Watts x Reader

Summary: After meeting one night in New York, you and Benny Watts are drawn to each other. As you go through different experiences with one another, you grow closer until it finally gets to be too much for Benny.

Word Count: 1890

Warnings: none

Notes: aye this is my first fic because there is a serious lack of benny watts fics and i had to change that for myself. this will probably be multiple chapters that can be read separately.

It was your first art gallery, and you were both anxious and overjoyed to see people surveying your work. You had put so many hours into each piece and all kinds of people had poured in to look. It was a well known gallery, but the variety still surprised you. You looked around and saw some interesting characters, but your interest was piqued when your eyes fell upon a particular cowboy.

He was inspecting one of your favorite paintings which had chess pieces as the subject. The pieces merely served as part of a metaphor in your art, as the game and all its complexities had never really been your thing. As you looked closer at the man you realized that, not only had his outfit sparked your interest, but he seemed familiar too. Out of curiosity, you walked over and stood next to him.

“What are your thoughts?” You asked, motioning towards the painting.

His initial expression showed surprise that you were talking to him, but he recovered quickly, saying, “It’s good. I think the artist has talent.” You felt a bit of pride hearing that. You opened your mouth to say thanks, but you decided not to reveal yourself. You wanted him to give his honest opinion without fear of offending you.

“So do you like chess?” He nodded to the painting. Hearing this you made the connection as to why you remembered seeing him before. Your father owned a little bookshop back home and you were looking into chess for the same painting you were discussing right now. You had seen this cowboy on the back of one of those books, but you hadn’t given it another thought, never actually expecting to meet him. You decided not to reveal this information either and continued with the conversation.

“I can play a modest game. You?”

“I can play a modest game.” He had a small smile as he shrugged.

“Your first lie.” You said smirking back.

He looked confused but curious, so you explained about your research, your fathers bookshop, the whole story. He puffed up a bit after hearing that, looking impressed that you knew who he was.

“What’s your name?” He asked, still curious.

“Y/n” you replied.

“Nice name. I’m Benny, but you already seem to know who I am. On the other hand I don’t know anything about you.” He reached out his hand to shake yours.

“You walk in here with a black trench coat but you make me out to be the mysterious one,” you smirked as you took his hand. He chuckled a bit, and after your introduction, you asked why he was here.

“My friend knows the artist actually. She told us we had to see her work before going out.” You hummed as you thought about what to say, but he interjected.

“I don’t usually do this, and I’m not sure why I’m doing this now, but maybe you’d consider coffee with me. I won’t tell anymore lies” he joked.

You laughed a little, mildly shocked. “you’re not sure why? That’s flattering” you teased.

“Not what I meant-“ but before you could come to a conclusion on his sudden offer, you heard an excited french accent.

“Y/n! Im so proud! You finally got to show off all that talent!” Your friend Cleo ran up to you and wrapped her arms around you. You hadn’t seen her since you lived in France for a few months and you had missed her. You left for France after you realized you weren’t really needed at home, so you dedicated yourself to trying to soak up some culture. She looked gorgeous like you remembered, fitting for a model. You continued your reunion embrace for a moment before she waved her arms to the men and woman behind her. She introduced the friends she had brought to your show as Arthur, Hilton, and Annette, who all smiled at you. Cleo paused to turn to the cowboy saying, “I see you’ve already met Benny.”

“Yeah we met,” he said, “but I didn’t know this was your work. I would’ve told you how impressed I am.” Your cheeks turned a light pink at the praise.

“Look at Benny, impressed with someone besides himself for once.”Cleo poked fun and the group let out a laugh.

“Hey I’m not a narcissist or anything, don’t listen to Cleo,” Benny made excuses to you, only mildly offended.

“Sure you aren’t. I have nothing against narcissists,” you jokingly assured him. This answer didn’t comfort the man who had essentially just asked you on a date.

You and Cleo continued to catch up and you talked more with her friends as well. Benny just stood next to you, and you caught him glancing at you once or twice, but you just ignored it. Eventually you agreed to go out for drinks with the group, walking with them to a bar a couple blocks down called Hal’s.

You all squeezed into a booth while Arthur went off to get drinks. You sat on the outside, watching the people out on the floor next to you giggling and dancing. Having a couple of drinks beforehand must’ve contributed to the large amount of people out there, you thought. Arthur eventually announced his return by laying a tray of drinks in the middle of the table.

You were all conversing and sipping on your drinks when Annette decided she wanted to dance. Cleo agreed enthusiastically, but the rest of us refused. She suggested we all take shots to make it easier, but once again we tried to turn her down. she pleaded, “come on guys, it’s a Saturday night, and you can’t possible lose something from it. Have a little bit of fun with me!”

We relented, having a feeling that she wasn’t going to give up any time soon. She gave a little clap and handed out the shots. You knocked yours back with everyone else and grimaced at the bitter taste. Shaking it off, you slid out of the booth so the others could get out. You moved back into your spot after they all made their way to the throng of people. You decided you would join them later, but you liked to observe first. You looked over and the only two left were you and Benny. You slid over to him, not wanting to sit awkwardly on the other end like he wasn’t there.

“I bet you five bucks that lady is bored out of her mind.” He pointed to a blonde on a date across the bar, “Either she’s an alcoholic or she’s trying to tune out baldie.” You looked at the woman and saw she was surrounded by empty glasses while the man in front of her seemed like he was boasting endlessly. You both started making observations about the various people in the bar. Most of them were snarky comments that you whispered into each other’s ears, giggling, but you also created imaginary lives for them, guessing who they were and how they got here. After sharing a couple laughs, you sighed and reached a comfortable lull before Benny brought up what you knew was coming.

“So have you thought about my earlier question?” He eyed you seriously all of a sudden, but you didn’t feel any pressure. He seemed the type of confident where he thought you would say yes, but he could recover if you said no.

You weighed in your impression of him. He was cute, with fluffy hair and nice eyes that were a kind of chocolate color. He was funny and you he seemed intelligent (I mean he had to be, he played competitive chess). Albeit his trench coat and hat were a bit eccentric, but that wasn’t a bad thing, in fact you found it attractive.

“So have you?” He asked again, leaning his head in.

“Oh uh” you hadn’t realized while you were thinking that you had zoned out looking at him. Clearing your throat you said, “I’m free for coffee.” You stopped, “But you have to wear the hat.”

“Wouldn’t leave home without it” he winked.

Suddenly you were shoved against him as your tipsy friends barreled back into the booth.

“We should probably join them” you said as you moved off him, pushing one of the leftover drinks towards him. He nodded and you both drank some more just to get on the same level as your friends.

“You two haven’t even danced! I saw you whispering. Too busy flirting?” Annette smiled as she slurred a few of her words. You just looked down, cheeks pink, leaving Benny to respond.

“How were you watching us when you were dancing with that guy, the one who looks like he’s only ever kissed his mother.”

“No, I’m sure he’s kissed other people! I mean he did seem young but...” Annette looked over to the guy she dragged to dance with her earlier. He stood sheepishly in the corner, looking like he hadn’t outgrown his baby fat yet, and was definitely not a city type. “He’s just shy!” She defended, but me and Benny just looked at each other, falling into giggles. You figured out that night that Annette was one of those drunks who got a little childish, but she was sweet.

You would’ve been content to keep hanging out with Benny, if it hadn’t been for Cleo who grabbed your hand and pulled you out to the dance floor. You looked back at Benny, but gave in and allowed her to twirl you into the crowd. You were having a good time with Cleo, Hilton and Arthur dancing on either side of her. You were soon out of breath, but didn’t mind, enjoying it all.

You had moved to the city a couple months ago, but hadn’t had time to make friends, focusing on your work and setting up your apartment. You missed having company, people who were fun and interesting.

You continued to move to the beat of the song until you bumped into someone. You looked back to see Benny smiling next to you. You smiled back and let him in to the little circle you and your friends had created. You felt a little warm, not from the dancing, but from being close to him.

After fifteen minutes you were all tired and made your way to the booth to gather all your things up and pay the bill. You walked out of the bar and into the chilly night air, grateful for the residual body heat that came from all the dancing. You hugged Cleo and your new friends goodbye as took turns getting into taxis and headed towards their homes. Hilton offered to wave you down a taxi too, but you declined, explaining that your home wasn’t a far walk. He shrugged and gave you another hug before climbing into the yellow car. Once again it was just you and Benny.

“Just the two of us again huh?” He spoke, and he definitely didn’t sound turned off by the idea.

“Fate I guess.”

“Sure” he said casually.

“Do you not believe in fate?” You asked. You weren’t a firm believer in the idea but something in his tone made you curious.

“I’ve had this debate before I think. I’m not sure, but I’d like to figure it out. How about you?” He said. You imagined him having a lot of debates. You had just met him, but he seemed to fall into the intellectual category. They always kept things interesting, and frequently offered new perspectives.

“I mean everything’s gotta mean something, there has to be a purpose. I just don’t know if we make our own purpose or if we’re given a purpose; fate.” You mused, not meaning to get existential. He didn’t seem to mind.

“You seem like the type to want to figure things out too.” He said ‘too’. So you and him both liked to do that. You added that to the growing list of things you liked about him.

“I guess I am.” He had a pleased look on his face and you just shrugged as you started to say goodbye.

“Wait” he grabbed your arm, “I heard you say you didn’t live far, I could walk you.” Before you could protest he told you, “it wouldn’t be a big deal, I heard you tell Hilton where you lived, we’re in the same direction.”

You agreed, finding yourself wanting to talk to him more. He offered you his arm casually and you laughed to yourself a little at the gesture, taking it anyway. You walked down the sidewalk, talking and laughing. You felt comfortable as you felt like you leveled with him. It seemed like too short of a walk as you suddenly found yourself at the door of your apartment building.

“Guess this is goodnight.” Benny said as you both stood on the sidewalk.

“What about coffee?” You asked.

“Glad you remembered. I’ll pick you up at twelve tomorrow, we can make it lunch. I’ll pick you up.” He said it decidedly, like it was just a fact. Something you noticed he did often.

“Ok then. Lunch. Tomorrow. Am I forgetting anything?” You said as you stepped halfway into the doorway.

“If you are we can figure that out later. I’ll see you.” He waved with a slight smile.

You waved back and smiled in return, watching him walk away before closing the door. You sped up to your apartment, letting yourself finally feel the excitement and anticipation of going out. You stripped off your clothing as soon as you got in and flopped on your bed, feeling sort of giddy. You felt like you and Benny were connected, though you had barely met him. As you laid down you smiled to yourself, looking forward to tomorrow.

#benny watts #benny watts x reader #the queen’s gambit #beth harmon #benny watts fanfiction #fan fiction

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stylesberries · 4 years

Text

Stay With Me

Summary: You meet Harry on his trip to Italy in an art gallery. You fell in love to the art and architecture of Rome.

Genre(s): fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning(s): none. (Except the unbounded sweetness.)

“Why is it so hot?” You whined to yourself, walking along the pavement, trying to make your way around the wide trunks of old stone pines.

You unscrewed the cap of a water bottle off and took a sip. The ice-cold water you bought from a food stall by the Trevi Fountain was already a little too warm for your liking. Trying not to mind it too much you emptied the bottle at one gulp.

“Did the food stall keeper tell me to turn right here or go straight ahead?”

You tried to playback on the conversation you had a little over fifteen minutes ago, but you couldn’t get yourself to focus. It was so hot.

You walked through the narrow side streets of Rome. Little souvenirs shops surrounded you from both sides as you made your way along the lane without turning, trying your luck.

When you reached a wider street that opened to your view as you left the tight space, you could breathe the fresh car exhausts again. There it is.

Barberini Palace.

Home to the National Gallery of Ancient Art - the main reason why you were so determined to find this place.

With newfound determination, you moved along the pavement to walk up to the fenced area that belonged to the Palace. You prayed that it was open today. You checked online, but you still felt a rush of worry fill you when you saw the door closed and not wide-open like it usually was in museums like this. The reason for it being that there were so many tourists at all time walking in and out of these historical places that there was no reason and no point to keep closing and opening the door.

You closed your eyes as you reached for the door handle and pushed it. It is hard to describe the sense of pleasant surprise you felt when the door obeyed the force applied by you.

As the heavy door lets you inside of the little room where the tickets were sold, you let your eyes scan over the interior. The ceilings were tall and a beautiful fresco of heavenly bodies and angels was spread across them.

After you got tickets you walked further into the spacious room and walked up the creme marble stairs that the lady at the door told you to follow.

As you made your way up the stairs, in the corners of which stood tall marble sculptured of Roman men and women, you felt eyes on you.

Eyes of all of the heavenly bodies that dwelt at the surface of the frescoes and those who stood in cold marble prisons and watched you walk by so freely.

“What a beautiful place!” You talked to yourself once again.

You came to Rome alone. A getaway trip - as you like to refer to it. You needed to spend more time with yourself and yourself only. Just you and the ancient art of Rome. At least just for now.

You made your way through the gallery, analyzing every painting a bit too long for most people.

That’s why you came alone. You could now stand by every piece of art for an indefinite amount of time. You could stand by this painting for the whole day until the guards kick you out. Nobody was here with you to keep pulling you to the next painting. You could finally find peace and relaxation.

You slowly made your way to the biggest frame you’d seen so far. There was a place to sit in front of it, so you sat down, as the painting was full of the smallest details, and you were determined to only leave when you take note of every one of them you could see.

You sat there for fifteen minutes and didn’t notice as time went by. You were so focused on the see of little creatures that hid behind tall oak trees, children that ran around the flower field chasing baby ducks and a group of women that bathed in light fabric and wallowed in the warm rays of the sun.

“It’s beautiful,” you muttered under your breath and situated your elbow on your knee, letting it hold your chin.

“It really is.”

A voice took you by surprise and made you tear yourself from the picture.

You turned your head, which was still situated on your hand, towards the sound. There stood a young man in wide-leg white pants, a T-shirt, and a think blue cardigan on top of it. A beige cap covered his hair, but you could still see some curls on the sides of his head.

He didn’t exactly look dangerous, but the voice in your head kept screaming “CREEPY GUY AHEAD OF YOU! RUN BEFORE HE MAKES A MOVE!” Growing up a woman taught you too many lessons.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. You probably want to sit down. I’ve been sitting here for so long!” You abruptly got up from your place and grabbed the bag that you threw to your side on the seat.

“SHOOT HIM A SMILE AND GET OUT!”

You smiled at him and went to turn around, but he talked back to you.

“No, no. You shouldn’t have gotten up. I could tell y’wanted to take some time. I understand. The painting is full of detail. Please don’t go. I didn’t mean to disturb you, I’ve just never seen anyone sit in front of a painting for so long.” The guy smiled at you with his cheeks starting to turn rosy.

The second you heard him seemingly judge you for staring at the picture for too long, you turned back with a frown on your face ready to clap back before he continued.

“You looked very passionate and I would love it if we could sit and discuss it maybe? I know it sounds weird coming from a stranger-” He paused.

“You bet, crazy man.” You thought to yourself and giggled softly, realizing that the possibility that this ball of nerves is a human trafficker is close to zero.

“You just seemed nice.” He finished, paying no mind to your giggling.

“He isn’t trying to come to close. Hasn’t called me anything weird yet. Looks like he reads a ton of Joan Didion. Why not?” The voice inside of your head was now protecting this stranger from you, which happened very rarely.

“We could.” You finally answer him, after making him stare at you expectingly.

It didn’t take you a while to figure out who he was. When you sat next to him to talk to him and finally looked at him properly, without trying to run away, the realization came upon you. You were a fan and you loved his music, but you could tell he didn’t want the conversation to be about him, so you talked about one of your favorite things in the world - art.

You talked about the painting in front of you and after you had already discussed every little detail you noticed, you moved to the frescoes on the ceiling. Harry seemed surprised at your knowledge of art and kept getting more and more into the conversation with every new word that left your mouth. After talking about frescoes Harry asked you about the purpose of your trip. You told him everything as it was. Still, to this day you were surprised about the honesty that you showed a man that you had never met before that.

Later, when you were both making your way down the marble stairs, Harry asked you if you’d like to have lunch with him the next day, to which you agreed to, knowing that you have nothing better to do and you were quite enjoying his company.

In the following weeks, you exchanged numbers and texted whenever you weren’t able to meet. Harry would send you pictures of art and architecture of places he visited for his new Gucci campaign. You would reply to him with pictures of an antique fountain outside the Contemporary Art Museum you went to.

Harry seemed surprisingly normal for a man who starts a conversation with strangers in art museums. He would invite you over to his hotel to go get some gelato together and talk about the highlights of your trip. It became an everyday thing for you to walk around in parks by the palaces or get lost in the labyrinths of tightly packed buildings in the city center.

You spent two weeks of your life with a complete stranger that by the end of the trip seemed closer to you than any friend you had before. Harry would listen to your rants and venting without making you feel bad for sharing certain things with him. He would talk to you about any exciting thing that happens to him throughout the day with an adorable look on his face. You didn’t know what caused the gleam in his eyes, but you were glad he was enjoying his time in Italy just as much as you did.

Harry had never enjoyed a trip to work this much before. He was full of excitement and positive energy. He would wake up every day thinking about you and places he could take you to. It was a little strange to be so vigorous, even for him. Skipping breakfast, in order to have ice-cream with you was something he had never done before for anyone.

What Harry didn’t know that the quivering and light trembling he felt every time he thought of you was none other than aborning love - the kind that gives life a meaning.

Harry knew that you didn’t live in Rome and you would have to go back home after your trip is over. However, the heart-sinking that Harry felt when you told him that your flight was in two days was indescribable. Was this really the end?

He was being a little bit dramatic, as you did exchange numbers, so you would be in touch, but it still wasn’t enough for him. The reason behind it was still a mystery to him.

When Harry invited you for dinner a day before you had to leave back home, you couldn’t hold back a genuine smile that made his heart flutter.

Here you were now - getting ready to go out to dinner with Mr. Harry Styled himself.

After applying a green graphic liner all over your eyelids, putting on a little bit of blush and a lipgloss, you stepped into your rufous-brown flares. You tugged a plain white T-shirt into them and put on a blue linen blazer. You walked out of your hotel room in brown loafers, grabbing the key and your bag on the way out.

You took a taxi to get to the restaurant where Harry was waiting for you. On the way to the restaurant, the butterflies in your stomach made themselves felt, surprising you.

“It’s just Harry. Why am I so anxious?”

When you paid the driver and walked out of the taxi, you could see a beautiful building in front of you. Its exterior reminded you of the Venice style of architecture. Dark olive tree leaves flooded the street, after being torn from the comfort of their branches by the cool wind.

You made your way to the entrance, where the doorman let you in and greeted you. The hostess came up to you and asked you about your reservation.

“Mr. Styles. I think he should already be here.” You answer her.

When she heard the name she turned to the doorman and asked him to escort you to your table. The doorman then leads you deeper into the restaurant, where the private booths are situated and pulls on a curtain of one of them to let you in.

You are greeted by a dreamy view.

Harry sat at the table in a creme colored suit and a white tank top. The candles in front of him illuminated the booth and their light reflected from him collar bones, so you could see the wings of his sparrows tattoo.

“Hi, Y/N! You look beautiful.” He softly smiled at you and you could see a light shade of pink appear on the apples of his cheeks.

“Hi, Harry. You look beautiful as well.” You smiled back at him and sat down opposite to him.

You could see his eyes scan your outfit and makeup.

“Does he think it’s too much?” Immediately, blood rushed to your cheeks as you blushed in embarrassment. “Here am I scaring people off being extra again. Great.”

Before you could let your mind sneer at you further, Harry spoke up.

“I love your makeup. I’ve never seen someone do their makeup like this. I guess it’s out of most people’s comfort zones. Looks beautiful on you. I-I mean everything does.” Harry’s voice died down by the end of the sentence, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

“Thank you so much. I try to experiment with clothes and makeup as much as possible. Makeup especially. I like using my face as a canvas. It takes time to get proper supplies to paint, but makeup is always around so I try not to lose any opportunities to have fun with it.”

While you skimmed through the menus, you discussed how you applied the wings so evenly and promised him to do his makeup one day. After choosing the main courses, Harry started telling you about the Gucci photoshoot that was now wrapping up.

“We’re almost done, so I think by the end of next week I’ll be going back home.” He started.

“That sounds wonderful, Harry. Do you think that you could send me more pictures when I leave? I’ll be far away from this beauty and I wouldn’t want it to leave my sight.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Harry muttered to himself.

“Hm?” You asked.

“No, no, nothing. I said I’ll make sure to send you as many pictures as I can.” He tried to brush it off, looking at you intently.

“Weird,” you thought but didn’t worry about it too much.

Throughout the dinner, you and Harry discussed so many different topics that you lost count by the end of it. Harry kept making jokes just to make you laugh over and over again, loving how the corners of your eyes creased when you laughed and how you had to wipe the tears his jokes caused to see clearly.

By the end of the dinner, the laughter died down and Harry’s mood became the opposite of what it was when you entered the booth.

“Hey, is something wrong? You seem upset.” You carefully started.

“No, everything is alright, love, don’t worry.” He quickly answered.

Love. That sounded so nice.

You chose not to bother him further and chose to tell him pleasant stories instead, but he wouldn’t let this weird melancholy go. Even the sweetness of dessert didn’t make it better.

“My mom used to tell me that if even a dessert doesn’t make your problems go away, you’re in deep shit.” You tried to lighten the mood.

You could now see a little smile growing on Harry’s face. The little smile slowly grew into a wide grin, which later on grew into a burst of guttural laughter. Harry kept laughing so hard that he felt the need to cover his face with his hands. Saying that you were proud of yourself was an understatement.

You just sat there with a stupid smile on your face staring at him in awe. “He’s really cute.”

When Harry’s laughter died down he looked at you with a sad smile on his face.

“I will miss y’so much.” He looked at you full of sincerity and tenderness.

You furrowed your brows at him and you let your chin fall on your palm, as your elbow found its place on the surface of the table.

“But I’m here.” You gave him a soft smile and let your eyes run over his frame. He looked completely defeated. There was nothing left of the happy, constantly-beaming-with-life Harry that you’ve spent the last two weeks with.

“You’re leaving tomorrow. You won’t be here anymore.” He let his eyes fall on the candles that slowly melted to their death. As the white wax dripped down the side of the candle, Harry could feel his time with you slip away as well.

“We can still text, right?” You tried to soothe the pain that he seems to be going through.

“That’s not the same.” He lets out a sigh full of frustration before looking up at you with sadness dwelling his eyes.

“I want to be around you. Physically. You made this trip the best one in my entire life just by blessing me with your presence.” Harry felt the now-familiar fluttering in his stomach as he let those gentrice words leave his mouth.

You couldn’t stop yourself from frowning, confused by his honesty.

“How am I supposed to go on with my life when I always feel the need to be around you? And I’ve only known you for what? Two weeks?” Harry speaks again, letting all of his frustration with the situation out.

You kept looking at him not knowing what to say. “If he’s being honest, I should be honest, too.” You thought and let your heart guide you.

“I don’t know why, but I feel the same way. You’ve made these two weeks magical and I don’t think I have ever been happier. I don’t want to leave.” You were the one to watch the candle melting now. With every drop of hot wax, you had less and less time together. It was closer and closer to the time of your departure. You felt unbounded sadness overflow you.

Harry looked at you and you could almost see gears turning in his head.

“Stay with me,” Harry asks you, staring right into your eyes, which were now staring back into his.

“What?” You ask confusingly.

“Stay with me. Don’t leave.” Harry spoke softer this time.

Harry knew it was a lot to ask of a stranger, but he also knew that you were far from being strangers after these two weeks full of tenderness and growing adoration for life. It felt like you’ve known each other in past lives. Like you were meant to meet in Rome and never part again.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and let yourself reach for his hand, which laid on the table.

“Stay with you?” You repeated his words under your breath.

“Stay with me.” Harry whispered. His face softened as he let his face come closer to yours with the table still between you.

You mirrored his actions and let your eyes fall on his pink lips. He noticed you looking and took it as a sign to come closer.

“I will stay.” You answered him. Your faces were a few inches away. When Harry heard you, his eyes went wide and he moved his face even closer to yours to a point where your lips were almost touching.

“May I?” He asked not allowing him lips to touch yours yet.

What a fucking man.

“Kiss me, you fool.” You spoke into his lips.

Harry chuckled, pushing his lips to connect them with yours.

Your kiss was interrupted by the waiter, who opened the curtains of the private booth. When he saw you kissing, he felt blood rush to his face.

“Oh, Io chiedo sinceramente scusa.“

The waiter seemed so flustered that he forgot all the little English he knew.

Harry moved away from you and turned to the waiter, who stood by the table with the receipt in his hand.

“Non ti preoccupare.” Harry spoke back to the waiter, surprising you both and reached for his wallet.

He placed his credit card in the receipt folder that the waiter passed him and thanked him, turning back to you.

“You speak Italian?” You asked him for completely bewildered by your new finding.

“That’s the Italian I know.” He smiled at you and reached for your cheek.

“That was so awkward, Harry.” You mumbled against his hand, closing your eyes in embarrassment.

“Oh, c’mon. Could it really be more awkward than trying to kiss properly with a table full of burning candles in our way?” He joked before pulling you closer and letting your laughter intertwine with his breath before continuing.

“Let’s pick it up where we left off now.”

——————————————————————————

Io chiedo sinceramente scusa. - I sincerely apologize.

Non ti preoccupare. - Don’t worry about it.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs #harry styles italy

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