#why did every single part of this chapter take twice as long to write as it should've?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jmbringitonworld · 2 years

Text

Unexpected Benefits of Becoming a Swamp Witch (2)

AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there

Chapter 1

Finally, here's the promised fluff!

At over 12k words, this is, by quite a bit, my longest ever chapter. If I wasn't so determined to have this be the final chapter, I definitely would've spilt it up, because this was a chore to get through. It feels like I've been writing this forever, and I've honestly gotten just a little bit sick of it by this point. I also think this chapter might've driven me just the tiniest bit insane, but that's fine. I'm just SO glad to have finally finished it!

I've got a cold right now, and my head hurts, so I'm not sure exactly how I feel about this chapter. But I'm pretty sure that if my head were clearer, I'd be incredibly proud of what I've managed to get out. This was a lot of hard work, and, personally, I feel like it's paid of. Of course, you, the reader, are perfectly entitled to feel differently. I'll leave it up to you to decide, but I hope that this chapter was worth the wait, and that you enjoy it.

Skull and Forest God Au belong to @llamagoddessofficial

__________________________________________

Chapter 2: Living with the Consequences

I was wrong. Very wrong.

His interest in me did not, in fact, diminish in the following days, months, or even years. Quite the contrary – his feelings for me only grew, exponentially, over time.

And slowly, subtly, surprisingly... so did mine.

~~~

It was getting late, and my two familiars had left to go hunting, so I decided to put off all thoughts of the infatuated Wetland God, and what I would do about him, ‘til the next day. The tree hollow wasn’t the most luxurious of bedrooms, but it was cushioned on all sides by an abundance of pillows and blankets, so I would at least be comfortable and warm throughout the night. Besides, I’d slept in rougher spots than this during my travels, and I had honestly been expecting far worse for my first few weeks here, until I could build my own witch’s cottage.

Trying to ignore Skull’s besotted expression, I turned my back to him and dug through my satchel, searching for some rations I’d packed for my dinner. My hands fell upon a large, wrapped package, still warm and smelling strongly of honey. I gave a start, as I recalled the honey cake I’d baked, as an offering to the Wetland God. With all the excitement and confusion of the day, I’d completely forgotten to give it to him.

Daring a peek over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Skull’s red eyelight, shining brightly in the growing gloom of the evening, its pupil still heart-shaped. His mouth was stretched in a wide smile, soft and sappy, in spite of the wickedly-sharp teeth lining his jaws.

I looked back at the cake, feeling that crimson gaze continuing to burn a hole in my back. If I gave Skull the cake now, he might take it as a sign of my ‘affections’. My brows furrowed, indecision gripping my mind. It wouldn’t do to encourage the deity’s attention, flattering though it may be. But still...

I chanced another glance at him. He was still staring at me, adoration written all across his skull and radiating from his magic. His face brightened when he noticed my gaze, his magic buzzing excitedly in the air. I hastily looked away.

He’d definitely be happy to receive my offering. I pursed my lips, as I imagined the joyful expression he’d likely make, how much more electrified his magic would become. Given the horror stories I’d been told by the townsfolk, I was certain that Skull hadn’t received an offering in years, if not centuries. He really would be happy if I were to give him one now.

I sighed heavily, my shoulders falling, before I drew myself back up, my face set with determination. Skull had shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived in his domain. The very least I could do, was to show him a bit of kindness in return, and give him the cake that I’d already baked for him. Firming my resolve, I grabbed the honey cake with both hands and marched straight toward him.

Skull shifted from foot to foot as I approached him, looking for all the world like a gigantic, skeletal puppy, eager for his owner’s attention. I cleared my throat and held out the cake, uncovering it to show him what I’d brought him.

“I baked this for you, Skull, as an offering. It’s a honey cake. I hope it pleases you.” I offered him a polite smile, showing none of the doubts plaguing my thoughts, and braced myself for what I assumed would be an overzealous reaction, given how he’d acted so far.

But I received no such reaction. In fact, I hardly received any reaction at all.

Skull stared at my cake with a strangely blank look, the widening of his eyelight being the only indication of the shock he seemed to be experiencing. His mouth opened, but after a few seconds without a word being said, it closed again, only to reopen several heartbeats later.

After a minute of watching Skull’s muted gawking at my cake, I could stand the awkward silence no longer. “What’s wrong? Do-... do you not like the cake?”

That finally got a reaction, as Skull’s head snapped toward me. “NO!... no... i... i... i love it... so much... it... thank you... i... thank... you...”

Then, to my utter horror, large tears started gathering along the corners of Skull’s eye sockets, eventually tipping over and dripping down his skull. Panic clawed at my chest, as the God of the Wetland continued to cry, a low, keening whine filling the air.

I shifted the cake to one arm, and used the other to stroke Skull’s wet muzzle. “There, there...” I murmured to him, as comfortingly as I could, with only the slightest edge of panic to my voice. “Oh dear, please don’t cry, sweetheart...! It’s all right, there’s no need for tears. Please, Skull, eat this cake. I baked it especially for you!”

I held the cake out once more, a pleading smile on my face. Skull’s tears finally seemed to slow down, although they didn’t stop completely. He sniffed loudly, then nudged me, very gently, with the tip of his snout.

“i can’t... eat this... it’s a... gift... from you... it’s too... precious... to eat... i will... cherish it... forever...” he insisted, voice as wobbly as his red eyelight.

I huffed a sigh. “It’s a cake. It’s meant to be eaten! That’s why I baked it.” I barely held back an eyeroll, exasperation leaking into my voice.

However, Skull refused to budge. The tears still steadily falling down his skull didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon, so out of desperation, I finally told him, “Fine! I’ll bake you more cakes! If you eat this one and cheer up, then I will definitely bake you all the honey cakes you want in the future. Okay? Please?”

That seemed to give him pause. Skull stood in silence for a few seconds, contemplating my offer, before he finally nodded his head. “all... right... if that’s what... you want... and if you’ll... give me... more... you will... give me more... right...?”

I instantly nodded to him. “Absolutely! Lots more cake, just for you! And anything else you want me to cook for you!”

In hindsight, that was probably a reckless vow to make, one that could easily be taken advantage of. Still, Skull seemed satisfied, and his weeping finally ceased. He opened his mouth wide and looked at me expectantly. Getting the message, I tossed the entire cake into Skull’s gaping maw, and watched it snap shut. I neither saw nor heard any chewing, but the Wetland God made several appreciative sounds, which soon devolved into more purring.

Crisis averted, I sighed, my shoulders sagging. I’d come dangerously close to making a promise I wasn’t fully certain I’d be able to keep, and I’d probably only reinforced Skull’s troublesome expectations of me and our relationship. I was really beginning to regret offering that stupid cake to him.

And yet... as Skull continued to purr, his magic humming in contentment, I couldn’t deny the warmth blooming in my chest. An involuntary smile curled onto my face, at the deity’s blissful expression. As I’d expected, he definitely was happy to receive my offering.

~~~

The next morning, I awoke to the beautiful singing of songbirds. Snuggled in warm blankets and soft pillows, I yawned, languidly stretching out my body. Feeling refreshed and well rested, I opened my eyes, ready to greet the new day.

And was greeted, instead, by Skull’s massive head, staring at me from the hollow’s entrance, his single ruby eyelight fixed unblinkingly on my face.

I suppressed a flinch, as memories of the previous day came flooding back to me. Right. I had yet another admirer to deal with. One I couldn’t dismiss as easily as I could all of the previous ones. Forcing away the urge to bury my head beneath my blanket and go right back to sleep, I dragged myself out of my cosy nest and got up.

Skull perked up, leaning his head toward me to nuzzle me, with a gentleness belying his tremendous size. The glow of his red eyelight softened, beginning to shimmer, the pupil once again becoming heart-shaped.

Reflexively, I reached out to pet his muzzle, receiving a purr in return. I probably shouldn’t have been indulging the Wetland God like this, but something about his earnest desire for my affection was too endearing for me to resist. Skull let out several cute little chirps, in between his constant purring, and unable to help myself, I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his wide snout as best as I could. The purring only intensified at the hug.

“Good morning, Skull,” I mumbled against his bones. I didn’t ask him whether he’d been stood there, staring at me all night, just silently watching me sleep. I was afraid of the answer.

“yes... it is!... such a... very... very good... morning... with you... here with me...” he rumbled back, his deep, gravelly voice managing to sound incredibly tender, and full of joy. “i’ve been... all alone... for so... so long... but not... anymore... not now that... i have you...” He beamed at me, his eyelight practically sparkling in its socket. “i’m so... happy... i love you... so much... my wife... my mate... my love...”

He sounded so sincere, so genuine, as he spoke of his ‘love’ for me, that I couldn’t prevent heat from spreading across my cheeks. I pressed my face to Skull’s, trying to hide the flush in my cheeks, feeling more embarrassed than I had in a very long time. I’d never blushed before, like some shy, simpering girl-child. It was undignified. Mortifying. And utterly unbecoming of a powerful sorceress.

Stepping away from Skull, I turned my back to him and cast my eyes all around me for something to focus on, beside the sad, pitiful whine of a lovesick Forest God. However, there was nothing to see in the tree hollow, except for the piles of blankets and pillows, and the various little human trinkets strewn about the place. This simple den was also unbefitting of a powerful sorceress.

Mind made up, I faced Skull again, and announced my intentions. “Skull, while your nest is very, uh, charming, it’s too small and basic for a witch like me to live and work in. I need a proper home. Would you happen to know of a spot where I may construct for myself a witch’s cottage?”

The Wetland God didn’t look too happy with my request. He fidgeted, pawing lightly at the thick tree roots, eyelight dimming, and let out an anxious-sounding whine. “but... nest is... for mate... you can’t go... somewhere else... mate must... stay in... our nest...!”

His fidgeting got worse, and a few of the flowers on his legs and horns wilted. I bit my lip, unsure how to convince him to let me leave, without him getting too upset. Forest Gods were creatures of instinct, first and foremost, and the last thing I wanted was to trigger Skull’s more possessive instincts. Suddenly, he lifted his head, his eyelight shining brightly with hope.

“i can... make nest... better...for you...!” he eagerly proposed. “i can... make it bigger... can change it... for you...!”

I hesitated, feeling sceptical about his idea, uncertain whether his magic was stable enough for such complicated alterations to the giant tree, but his pleading expression was hard to deny. With a resigned sigh, I nodded my head.

“Very well, I accept your offer,” I conceded, to which he beamed at me, his eyelight almost glittering within his eye socket. “I’ll assist you with my own magic, of course. Together, we should hopefully be able to fashion a suitable house out of this tree.”

I tried to inject as much confidence into my voice as I could, if only to dispel my own doubts. Skull looked excited and relieved, shifting his considerable weight from foot to foot, his large head swaying slightly.

“yes...! together...!” he agreed, very enthusiastically.

Then, tossing his head back, Skull let out an ear-splittingly loud bellow, shaking the ground and the trees with the force of his roar, and causing the water to ripple outwards. I covered my ears, shrinking back and away from him.

The Wetland God’s magical aura spread out from him, filling the air, and coating the surrounding area, concentrating on the giant tree in particular. As the ancient and powerful Nature Magic seeped into the tree, it started growing, its branches lengthening and its trunk thickening, the hollow expanding along with it.

I retreated to Skull’s side, to observe the transformation. It wasn’t... exactly what I was hoping for... But it was a start. Filled with determination, I sent out my own magic, entwining it very carefully with Skull’s, and guided his wild magic to where I needed it to go. Skull’s magic responded eagerly, if clumsily, to my direction, and together, we slowly shaped the tree into a form more suitable for my needs.

I smiled to myself. Yes, Skull and I would be able to make this tree into a home. Together.

And over the next several days, we set about doing just that.

It took a lot of time, work, and dedication, but the two of us devoted ourselves completely to the lengthy and arduous task of transforming the giant tree into a treehouse (or rather, a tree-cottage). At the end of the day, I was often magically drained, both from having to guide Skull’s chaotic and untamed magic, and from having to cast various spells for the more delicate and finicky adjustments, as well as physically exhausted, from the manual jobs that magic could not accomplish. But I was also incredibly proud of our achievement.

We were making steady progress, and I knew that soon, much sooner than I had anticipated, I would have my forever home.

~~~

A cottage was not all that I required, however. At my request, Skull raised a sizeable chunk of land above the water, beside the den, to serve as my garden. The soil there was fertile and saturated in potent Nature Magic, so anything that was planted in it was sure to thrive. On top of the usual fruits and vegetables, I’d also planted various flowers and herbs for potion-making.

Additionally, Skull kept encouraging moths, bees, and other pollinators to visit my garden. The bees, in particular, gave me an idea of how I could express my gratitude to the Wetland God, for all of his invaluable help. It took me most of an afternoon, but I managed to craft a large, wooden apiary. Then, I used an insect charm to lure a queen honey bee into settling inside it.

After a few of days, and many enchantments, I had a rapidly growing colony of bees, to help pollinate my garden, and to produce honey, which I then used to bake cakes and other sweet treats for Skull. I had told him that I would bake him more honey cakes, after all. Thankfully, his reactions to my offerings weren’t as alarming as his first one, even if he was no less delighted, each time I gave him one. Moreover, I also discovered that the Wetland God was especially fond of warm, freshly-baked bread, soaked in honey.

Occasionally, though, I’d come across a flower in my garden which I was certain I hadn’t planted myself. They were always vibrantly colourful, but were otherwise completely useless to me and had no beneficial properties whatsoever. It seemed obvious to me that Skull had grown them, likely as an attempt to please me. While I did appreciate his thoughtfulness, I didn’t want useless flowers taking up room in my garden, so I removed them each time I spotted one.

Nevertheless, I didn’t have the heart to just toss away Skull’s gifts. I could only too easily picture the look of heartbreak he’d give me, and it made my chest ache, for reasons I couldn’t explain. It was frustrating, and almost made me want to throw away the flowers, just to spite the feeling. However, I merely put Skull’s flowers in one of my taller chalices, one made out of clear crystal. I placed the makeshift flower vase by one of the windows I’d recently installed in the side of the tree, and it made for an aesthetically pleasing sight, if nothing else.

It didn’t take long for me to run out of space for the flowers, though, and I had to get a little creative about where to stuff anymore I kept finding. I was sorely tempted to ask Skull to stop growing flowers I didn’t want in my garden, but the thought of his disappointed expression made me hold my tongue. It was just a minor inconvenience, anyhow, and certainly not worth complaining to an Old God about, especially not one as emotional as Skull.

One day, however, one of Skull’s flowers did manage to catch my eye. It was a rare blossom, and toxic if consumed, but its pollen was used in many regenerative potions, so I decided to let it stay in my garden. I even gathered some of its seeds, to grow more of this valuable specimen. Skull had evidently noticed my interest in this particular flower, as the next morning, I found more of them growing in my garden.

From then on, each time I showed any interest in a specific flower, by the following day, more of them would have appeared. This then extended to any herbs or fungi I found in the swamp, and brought home with me. Furthermore, whenever I caught an insect or other small critter for my potions, or collected ingredients from the local wildlife, such as those alligator teeth I’d been eyeing that first day, I’d come across even more of them afterwards, as I explored the swamp.

Skull was clearly always paying attention to me, and his attentiveness warmed my heart more than I cared to admit. And he was never overt or demonstrative with these gifts, either. While he was very open about his feelings for me, and never hesitated to declare his love for me or to nuzzle me, calling me his “wife” and “mate”, his gifts to me were always subtle, and he never drew attention to them, as if he were shy about giving them to me directly.

And I never thanked him openly, either. Despite appreciating his gifts more than I ever had anyone else’s, the thought of expressing my gratitude to him so plainly, so sincerely, left me feeling a little too... vulnerable. So instead, I baked him more cakes. And biscuits. And pies. And whatever else I thought he might enjoy.

And each time I would give them to him, he’d have the most heartfelt look of joy and wonder on his face, in spite of his lack of facial muscles, and his magic would thrum so happily, so excitedly, that it felt like an even greater gift than all of the flowers in my garden.

~~~

The plants and other potions ingredients weren’t the only present Skull would leave for me, however.

The Wetland God kept coaxing pretty insects and colourful birds to the area around my home. While Artemis enjoyed playing with the insects, especially the dragonflies, much to their distress, Hermes didn’t take kindly to the other birds showing off on what he now considered his territory, and never failed to chase them all away the moment he spotted one.

Skull seemed more than a little downhearted about that. But he never complained, or tried to stop my familiars, and instead, kept attracting more visually appealing wildlife to my home, in the hopes that I would appreciate them. Well, I appreciated the effort, at least. For being such a fearsome and often violent Forest God, who had killed countless humans in the past several centuries, he could be surprisingly sweet.

Besides his other, natural gifts, Skull also started leaving me shiny trinkets and glittering jewellery. I was initially baffled as to where he could’ve possibly gotten these man-made objects from, before discovering the answer from one such present.

One of the rings was especially ornate, with a large, glimmering gemstone in the centre, surrounded by smaller, clear jewels, which I presumed to be diamonds. More interestingly, though, I noticed that it bore an inscription on the inside, which read “To R, with everlasting love, C”. I realised, then, that Skull had taken all of these items off of the intruders he’d drowned in the bog.

I shrugged, and tied a string to the ring, hanging it up from a nearby branch, where it caught the sunlight and sparkled magnificently. Waste not, want not, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like these items’ original owners would need their things anymore.

Skull looked pleased, when he noticed that I’d made use of his gift. I found more jewellery the next day. It took a while to wash off the mud and tar still stuck to them, but they made very beautiful decorations for my new home.

~~~

One thing I couldn’t help but notice, regarding Skull, was that throughout my time in the swamp, I’d often spot him conversing with alligators, or various marsh birds. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, obviously, and it left me intrigued.

Hermes was the one to enlighten me, when I voiced my curiosity. He’s asking them for advice. On how to woo you.

Well that was a surprise.

And also... rather adorable.

Sitting on the lip of wood at the entrance to my home, I glanced over at Skull. He seemed to be watching very intently, as a heron cawed loudly at him, spreading its wings and extending its neck, displaying its plumage, and snapping its bill rather aggressively. I stifled a laugh as Skull proceeded to rip a branch off of a nearby tree, and presented it to the heron, who then nodded at him, apparently deeming the Wetland God’s efforts satisfactory.

I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off of my face, as fondness settled itself in my heart. He really was adorable, sometimes.

Still smiling, I turned to my familiars. “Has Skull ever come to you two for help, or advice on how to, heh, win my heart?” I asked them, although internally, I suspected I already knew the answer. As well as exactly how much help Skull would’ve received from them.

Hermes bristled his feathers. He has. I refused. I would never betray Mistress’s secrets.

Artemis didn’t even bother to look up, as she groomed herself meticulously. He did... I ignored him...

I snorted, my smile turning wry. Just as I thought. No help whatsoever.

But then I paused, as a curious thought came to me. What would it take to win my heart? Countless people had tried, for most of my life, all without success. Not a single person had come even close to earning my affections. I knew, then, what didn’t work. But I’d never given a thought as to what would.

My brows furrowed, as it suddenly hit me that I had no idea what would make me fall in love with someone, no idea what would be able to finally melt the walls of ice I’d erected around my heart.

A shadow suddenly fell over me and I looked up.

Skull was standing in front of me, just outside the entrance (thankfully, without the tree branch, stars knew what I would do with it). I was getting much better at reading his expressions, and I could tell that he looked troubled. His magical aura was tinged with want and frustration and worry.

I reached up to pet his snout, dragging my nails gently along hard bone, and he calmed down immediately, his magic settling into a pleasant hum. “What’s wrong, Skull?”

The giant creature let out a low, unhappy sound, and pressed his nose into my touch. “want to hold you... want to hug you... want to cuddle... soft wife... but can’t... like this... too big... might hurt you...”

I wanted to coo at him, because that was so cute, and so like him, but I managed to restrain myself. Instead, I gave him a commiserating smile and pet him harder. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You are just a bit too big for cuddles, I’m afraid.”

His face fell and, unable to resist the urge, I leaned forward to place a kiss to the end of his snout.

His red eyelight lit up like a bonfire and his magic buzzed. The tension in his gaze intensified considerably, and he seemed to be focusing very hard on something. I could sense his magic condensing, his vast, powerful aura compressing and compacting in on itself. I gave a start, as Skull’s form shimmered, and then gradually began to shrink and mutate.

When everything had settled, Skull stood before me, not as a gigantic, monstrous Wetland God, but as something a lot smaller, and lot more... humanoid.

I gazed in awe at Skull’s new form.

His magic was too unstable for him to assume a fully human form, so instead, he appeared to be a huge, hulking, humanoid skeleton. His bones sported many chips and cracks, including a particularly big, jagged hole on top of his skull, a testament to his damaged psyche, but he was still altogether whole, and in one single, solid piece. The clothes he wore were ripped and ragged, their colour faded, but looked very soft, and even a little fluffy.

Skull’s expression was strained, his stance awkward, but the smile he gave me was tentatively hopeful. “it’s... hard... for me to... contain... my magic... in such a... small body... but now i can... hug you... please?... wife??”

There was nothing I could say to such an earnest request, besides, “Of course you can, dear.”

His expression brightened immensely, his entire body practically lighting up with joy, and I spread my arms invitingly. “Come here, Skull.”

Without wasting a single second, he stumbled towards me and wrapped his big arms around me, drawing me close to his broad chest and nuzzling the top of my head. Despite being much smaller than before, he still easily dwarfed me, and I was almost smothered by his hug. Still, I couldn’t find it in me to complain, or pull away.

His embrace was tight, and so very new and unfamiliar to me, but it was surprisingly gentle, and warm, and soft. Pressed up against him like this, I felt small, and delicate, but so, so precious.

With his magic brushing against me, radiating tenderness and affection, his rumbling purrs vibrating through me, and his strong, solid body all around me, I felt myself relax, leaning back into his hold. I practically melted in Skull’s arms, a delicious warmth seeping into my heart.

I felt so cherished, so loved. It was a wonderful feeling. One I never wanted to let go off.

~~~

Eventually, all of mine and Skull’s hard work paid off, and my tree-cottage was finally completed.

The original hollow had been expanded into a spacious, circular living room, complete with a fully-functional kitchen and dining area. Some stairs along the wall led to a second floor, which I’d designated as my study, and my potion-brewing space. The walls were all fully lined with shelves, completely taken up by either potion ingredients, magical instruments, or ancient tomes, as were the many desks and tables spread out wherever possible. A massive cauldron took pride of place in the centre. Another set of stairs was squeezed in amongst all of the magical paraphernalia, leading up to my bedroom, which also served as my observatory.

All in all, I was extremely satisfied with what the both of us had managed to accomplish, in such a short amount of time.

To celebrate, I baked another honey cake. Skull enjoyed the cake, while I enjoyed having a proper home, at long last. Even my familiars were pleased with our new living quarters.

It finally felt like the beginning of a promising, peaceful new life, the kind I’d always been longing for. And, for the first time since I’d stepped foot in the wetlands, I could finally say with complete confidence that I’d made the right choice, all along.

I was... hopeful. And... happy. Skull was happy, too.

The future was looking bright.

~~~

Now that I’d fully settled into life in the swamp, and completed construction on my tree-cottage, I decided it was time I got myself officially registered with the local Mage’s Guild, so that I could begin accepting clients and contracts again. A witch needed to earn a living after all, and I was getting bored and restless, without anything pressing to do.

Skull was predictably upset about my leaving, but I’d managed to convince him that it was important to me, and, after many, many reassurances that no, I wasn’t leaving him forever, and yes, I would definitely return to him, the clingy deity finally relented and allowed me to leave.

He still kept begging me to reconsider, though. I hadn’t thought a dog skull could look that sad and pitiful, but Skull always managed to surprise me, in the most unexpected ways. Truthfully, it was almost enough to make me give in to his pleas, but I firmed my resolve and pushed on.

The Old God escorted me out of his wetland, moping the entire way, and howled miserably when I finally stepped outside of his territory, and flew off into the horizon on my broom. His mournful wails followed me for a long time.

~~~

The headquarters of the Mage’s Guild were, naturally, within an ancient and massive castle, centred around a tall and imposing Sorcerer’s Tower. The accumulated, residual magic of generations upon generations of sorcerers saturated the entire area, sinking into the ground, and seeping into the rune-covered stone walls of the castle. You could practically taste the magic in the air.

It was a heady feeling, being in such a remarkable place.

Given what an eminent witch my mother had been, I was instantly welcomed into the Guild, and directed to go present myself officially to the Guild’s Master, while my familiars were taken to be registered in the Magical Menagerie.

The Guildmaster was a mage of very few words, and shrouded in mystery. They were widely regarded as being a sorcerer of considerable skill and power, second only to my late mother, and had quickly risen to the top of the Guild within only a handful of years. While their achievements were universally acclaimed, precious little was known about them personally, beyond the fact that they’d forsaken much in their pursuit of arcane and esoteric knowledge.

Even their own name.

They were also the only human, in the entire world, whom I respected, and even admired.

~~~

My registration was completed swiftly and efficiently, as was expected of someone as competent as the Guildmaster. They spoke coolly, and without inflection in their voice, as they questioned me on my magical abilities and specific talents. That, coupled with their calm, impassive demeanour, gave very little away regarding their thoughts.

It was honestly a bit intimidating, being in their presence.

But also, incredibly fascinating.

When the interview came to an end, I stared pensively at them, as they gathered all of their materials, with precise, economical movements.

“Have you ever been in love?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

I bit my lip, shocked at myself. What had possessed me to ask the Guildmaster such a personal question? And why on the subject of love, of all things?

The slight widening of their eyes, and the stuttering of their movements, were the only indications that the Guildmaster had heard me. They carried on with their task, as before, putting away all of their things in various trunks and desk drawers. As always, their inscrutable countenance, and deep, impenetrable eyes, gave nothing away.

The silence stretched on, until it got very uncomfortable, and just as I was about to open my mouth to apologise and change the subject, the Guildmaster finally gave me an answer. And it wasn’t the one I’d been expecting.

“Once. Briefly. Years ago,” they revealed, their voice as emotionless as ever, despite the subject matter. “But we had... differing priorities. So we parted ways.”

To say that that came as a surprise to me would be an understatement. The Guildmaster was well-known as an individual singularly focused on the pursuit of knowledge, who cared very little for anything not relating to their magical studies. They’d discarded all earthly attachments, and had immersed themself so fully in their research and their craft, that it was rumoured that they were now more magical spirit, than flesh-and-blood human.

Moreover, mages were solitary people by nature, generally choosing to remain isolated from the mundane for our own safety, and only coming together with fellow sorcerers to conduct trade, or to exchange knowledge we deemed important enough to share with the wider world. We otherwise kept mostly to ourselves, passing on our craft and family magics from mother to daughter, or from father to son.

I would never have guessed that one of the most mysterious and reclusive sorcerers in the world, would have ever sought companionship, let alone love. I honestly thought they were beyond such needs, or desires. Although, it seemed that, in the end, they were.

“Do you... ever regret it?... Any of it?” I couldn’t help but ask the Guildmaster, my voice quiet and unusually hesitant.

For a split second, I could’ve sworn I saw a brief flash of emotion flit across their face, but it was gone before I could be sure. I dismissed the thought. It was probably nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

“Regrets are pointless,” they affirmed, voice even as ever. “To dwell on the past, is to squander the present, and to sacrifice the future.”

They fell silent, and I thought our discussion over. But suddenly, they turned to me and fixed me with an oddly serious, and meaningful stare. “Which is why, no matter what you do, no matter what you choose, above all else, make sure that you do not regret your decisions.”

Unable to do anything else, I nodded. Seemingly satisfied with my response, they turned away, and the conversation ended there.

~~~

With all of my business with the Guild concluded, I prepared to take my leave, anxious to return home again. New witch’s licence in hand, I went to collect my two familiars from the Menagerie, and then retrieved my broom. Just before departing, however, the Guildmaster themself came to see me off.

“I am glad for the chance to have met you,” they told me, catching me off guard. I truly hadn’t thought that they would care about my presence here, one way or another. I still didn’t have quite the same reputation my mother had, after all. “You look well. And you seem happy. Good. It is what your mother would have wanted.”

And with those final, perplexing words, the Guildmaster disappeared back into the central Tower. I stared after them for a while, unsure what to think about our bizarre interaction, before I shook my head, banishing the encounter from my mind, and sat myself on my broomstick. Once Artemis was snuggled safely in my bag, and Hermes was securely perched on my hat, I then rushed us home, as fast as my broom could carry us.

I had a lonely husband to return to.

When I finally reached the Wetland, I kept flying, eager to get back to my home as quickly as possible. As I soared over the wetlands, though, I saw that most of the greenery had withered, and much of the landscape had been taken over by bog once more. Not a single flower remained. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, at seeing how much my presence had clearly been missed.

Skull was there to greet me, before I had even made it to our tree-cottage nest. He called out to me, a sharp, high keen, his magic filled with excitement and overwhelming relief. I descended at once, and hoped off my broom, landing right on top of his massive head. Without pause, I immediately crouched down and threw my arms around him, pressing my lips to his skull in a firm kiss.

The air crackled and sparked with his magic, like electricity, sending tingles down my spine. Tiny flowers bloomed across Skull’s antlers, along his legs, and on the trees all around us.

“never... leave me... again...” he begged me, his voice trembling with emotion. “please... please don’t... ever leave me... alone... please... promise me that... you won’t... please...”

There were a million things I could say to that. But, for the first time in my life, I listened to my heart. “I won’t, Skull. I promise.”

His answering smile was all I needed, to know that this was one decision that I definitely would not regret.

~~~

There was one last, major decision left for me to make. A decision that would change my life more than any other I’d ever made. A decision that I could not afford to regret.

With a steaming cup of herbal tea in hand, I took a seat in front of the largest table in my study, and observed the ruby-red stone sat upon it with a critical eye. It was a rather innocuous-looking rock, about the size of my fist, transparent and glass-like, and coloured a deep, dark red. The average, non-magical human would probably assume it was nothing more than a hunk of coloured glass. But anyone with any magical ability whatsoever would be able to tell, at a glance, exactly what this stone was, and just how precious it truly was.

This was a Philosopher’s Stone.

A stone capable of transmuting base metals into gold, and which could produce the Elixir of Life, a mystical, miraculous potion able to cure any illness, heal any injury, and which could grant the drinker eternal life and youth.

It was, perhaps, my mother’s greatest achievement, or, at least, one of them, and was certainly her Magnum Opus as an alchemist. She’d dedicated years of her life to creating this legendary artefact, and when she’d finally succeeded, it had earned her untold fame within the magical community, since previously, only three other people had ever managed to create one. Mother had even gone on to share many of her findings with the scholars and researchers at the Mage’s Guild, in the hopes of furthering magekind’s understanding of alchemy, and its vast and innumerable possibilities.

She’d taken the Stone with her when she’d left the Guild, to go live a quiet life in an enchanted forest, after becoming pregnant with me, and I’d inherited it when she’d passed away. Neither of us had ever used it, though. We’d both been competent enough witches to accomplish all that we wanted to, without it. Mother hadn’t created the Philosopher’s Stone out of any great need or desire for its incredible properties. She’d simply done it to prove that she could.

But now, I did have a use for it.

A noise from outside drew my attention to one of the windows. With one last glance to the Stone, I tore my eyes away from it, and stood up. My feet carried me over to the window, and I looked outside, my lips automatically tilting up into a smile at the sight below.

Skull was returning from his patrol of the outer edges of his territory, and the swamp’s residents were welcoming him back. Hermes was hovering above him, having accompanied him on his patrol, but when my avian familiar spotted me, he gave a sharp cry to the Wetland God, before flying towards me. I hastily opened the window, just in time for Hermes to swoop in. He circled the room a few times, before finally landing atop one of the bookshelves.

Looking out the window again, I saw that Skull had noticed me as well. His happy expression was plain to see, even from this distance, so I waved to him. He called back to me, his deep, powerful voice making the water ripple, the leaves tremble, and my heart shudder in my chest. I gave him another wave, and a smile, before retreating, back to the Philosopher’s Stone.

I still had a decision to make.

Much had changed since I’d first stepped foot in the wetlands. I now had a home, a proper witch’s cottage to call my own, and I even got on fairly well with all of my new furry, feathery, and scaly neighbours, mostly thanks to Skull’s influence. All in all, I’d settled into life in the swamp far better than I’d ever dared hope for. This place was my home, and I never wanted to leave here.

Even my familiars had settled surprisingly well into their new life in the swamp. While Hermes still chased away any birds who dared venture too close to our home, he’d come to accept Skull as my mate, and even joined the Wetland God on his patrols. I’d often see the tan owl flying beside Skull, or perching himself on the deity’s huge horns.

Artemis, on the other hand, still hadn’t warmed up to Skull, and was content to simply ignore him most of the time. I’d assured a dejected Skull that it wasn’t anything personal, and that the black cat was just very independent, and preferred to keep to herself. Heck, she still wasn’t overly friendly with me, her master.

My feline familiar had finally grown to like the wetlands, however. When she was not curled up on a pillow at home, Missy was often out wandering the swamp, exploring her new territory, usually on the back of whatever poor alligator she’d somehow managed to bully into giving her a ride. While the humans were terrified of the God of the Black Wetland, it was my own black cat whom those actually living in the wetland had grown to fear.

But by far the most significant change, was my relationship with Skull.

I’d originally believed that Skull’s feelings for me were nothing more than a temporary infatuation, brought on solely by his crushing loneliness, and his desperate desire for companionship and love. The deity had been all alone, for centuries, after all. It was no wonder he’d gotten so attached to me, so quickly. But I’d assumed that once the novelty of my presence had worn off, his feelings for me would fade away and disappear.

But I had eventually realised how wrong I was.

The gigantic God of the Wetland had only grown more affectionate towards me over time, which was saying something, considering how obsessively he doted on me ever since we met. He was caring, attentive, thoughtful, and the most devoted creature imaginable. His love for me was evident in every action he took for me, every word he said to me, and every look he gave me. All of my doubts as to the sincerity of his feelings for me had long since vanished, in the face of his unwavering devotion to me. I was loved, and I knew it.

As for my own feelings towards him... they’d evolved, in ways I could not have anticipated. I’d grown to appreciate Skull, and all that he did for me, and cherished his fondness for me. I... cared for him... more than I ever thought possible. More than I ever thought I was even capable of, in all honesty. He made me feel things I never thought I could – warm things, gentle things, tender, soft things. Emotions both terrible and wonderful.

Without my realising, Skull had managed to sneak his way into my heart, and had made it his own.

Heavy footsteps from the floor below alerted me to my guest. I abandoned my musings, and made my way to the ground floor of my home, to go greet my husband.

Skull had once again taken his smaller, humanoid skeleton form, despite how difficult it was for him to maintain, so that he could enter my home safely. He was clearly here for more cuddles. And I was more than happy to oblige him.

As soon as Skull caught sight of me, his face lit up and he beamed at me. His movements awkward, and clumsy, in such an uncomfortable body, he stumbled towards me, arms wide open to receive me. I met him halfway, all but throwing myself into his embrace. Skull’s strong, thick arms encircled me, drawing my close, and pressing me tightly to his clothed rib cage. I wrapped my own arms around him, and smiled up at him.

“Welcome back, dear,” I greeted him, in a warm, tender voice I reserved just for him.

Skull’s already wide smile widened further, his single red eyelight shining brightly. He leaned his head down to nuzzle his face into my hair, low, rumbling purrs echoing from deep inside his chest.

“i... missed you... wife...” he mumbled into my hair, so close to my ear it sent pleasant shivers down my spine.

“I missed you too, husband,” I murmured back, removing one arm from around him, to raise it up to Skull’s face. I placed my hand on his cheekbone, my thumb rubbing gentle circles on his hard bones, and Skull eagerly leaned into my touch.

“you’re so... soft... and warm... and perfect... you smell... so nice... i love you...” he purred into my hand, the pupil of his eyelight becoming heart-shaped with adoration.

My smile softened, an impossibly tender feeling warming my heart, and spreading throughout my chest.

“I love you, too,” I whispered to him, and before he could react, I pulled his head down towards mine, leaning my own face up in tandem, and pressed my lips to his.

Skull froze, his entire body going still and rigid, before his arms tightened around me. Sharp phalanges dug into my skin, almost to the point of pain, but the skeletal deity managed to restrain himself just enough to avoid harming me. With a fierceness that took my breath away, Skull deepened our kiss, his mouth moving against mine with a passion I hadn’t known he was capable of. Small, colourful flowers bloomed all across his body, covering up every crack and every hole scarring his bones, and even filling up the large one on his skull.

As I closed my eyes, and surrendered myself to the emotions swelling within my chest, and the love in Skull’s kiss, I knew that I’d already made my decision. And that I wouldn’t regret it.

I had promised Skull that I would never leave him, after all.

~~~

Time passed, as it always did. But since it no longer affected me, I paid it no mind, and focused instead, on the joy of living.

My life now was peaceful, blissful; sometimes tranquil, sometimes exciting, but always satisfying. My days were full of love, and happiness, like I’d never known, nor dared to dream of.

I was happy. My mate, and husband, was happy. My familiars were happy. Even our wetland home was flourishing, thanks to Skull’s steadily improving mental health, and his overflowing positive emotions.

Everything was perfect, and it seemed like it always would be.

I truly believed that I was living my best life, and that there was nothing at all that could make it better.

...

And then I became pregnant.

~~~

Discovering that we were going to be parents was more than a little overwhelming. For the both of us. Skull had been all alone, without anyone, for centuries, and I wasn’t much better in that regard, either. Neither of us were very confident that we would be up to the challenge of raising a child.

Those early days were tumultuous. Skull’s instincts went haywire, and he frenziedly tried to make our nest as safe and as comfortable as possible. He added even more pillows and blankets to the tree-cottage, until I could barely walk in my own home, and temporarily banished all of the alligators from the swamp. While Skull knew, on an intellectual level, that the poor reptiles would never hurt me, his protective instincts would not allow any large predators anywhere near me, his mate, while I was with child. The alligators were, understandably, very upset, but had begrudgingly obeyed.

Consequently, the marsh and bog had become even more dangerous for humans to traverse, even as both became more vibrant and alive, thanks to Skull’s huge increase of positive emotions.

Not that I was able to appreciate any of that, however. Given my delicate state, I wasn’t allowed to leave the heart of the swamp. I’d expected that, truthfully, but it was nonetheless mildly annoying. While I had rarely travelled far from the swamp to begin with, I still missed being able to collect potions ingredients, travelling the wetlands with my mate, either riding on his head, or with Skull trailing close behind me like a baby duckling. But a Forest God’s natural instincts could not be denied.

There was one major benefit to my pregnancy, though – Skull made a real effort to use his smaller, humanoid form more often, in spite of how uncomfortable it was for him. Our cuddles were becoming more and more frequent, which more than made up for everything. Being able to hold my husband close to my chest, and feel his arms around me, was worth any inconvenience I had to put up with.

My tree-cottage had also undergone some notable changes. Skull and I had constructed an extra room, attached to the main living area on the ground floor, which would serve as our child’s bedroom. It wasn’t very aesthetically pleasing, and made the giant tree look lopsided at the bottom, but I didn’t want our child to have to pass through the potentially dangerous study/potions area, just to reach their bedroom.

Skull had already started stuffing piles of blankets and pillows inside the new baby room, leaving barely any room for the child’s cot. I let him, reasoning that it was better that he do so there, than elsewhere in the cottage. I’d had to put my foot down, when my mate had tried to blanket my study.

Besides the living arrangements, preparing for our new arrival came with some rather... interesting challenges. All owing to the fact that neither of us knew what species our child would be.

This was because, while mages were considered humans, we were, technically, actually a sub-species of human. As such, we differed from ordinary, non-magical humans in a variety of ways, most notably our ability to use magic. Another difference was that, whether or not a child born to a mage was one themself, all depended on both the magical parent’s biological sex, as well as the child’s.

To be precise, a female child born to a witch would always be a witch, and a male child born to a wizard would always be a wizard (barring any future decision to change one’s sex). Otherwise, the child would be of the same species as their non-mage parent. In my case, that meant that I would either have a witch daughter, or a Forest God son. And neither of us would know until much later on in the pregnancy. For now, though, it was a mystery.

The prospect of my impending motherhood was both terrifying... and exciting.

Furthermore, as my pregnancy progressed, and the life within my womb kept growing, unknown emotions started taking root inside my heart. Feelings of love, both soft and tender, yet also powerful and all-consuming, swept over me with a ferocity which threw me off guard. I never thought that I would feel so completely and utterly devoted to, and protective of, a person who hadn’t even been born yet.

But as my belly swelled with new life, so too did my heart swell with emotion, as I fell more and more in love with this impossibly tiny, and precious creature I had yet to meet. And I wasn’t the only one caught in our baby’s spell.

Skull adored our child from the very moment he became aware of their existence. Despite how overwhelmed he was, and how out of our depths we both were, he was still beyond overjoyed to become a father. The Wetland God was completely obsessed with the tiny life growing inside me, and would frequently stare at my belly in wonder, as if not quite fully able to believe that there was a child in there, his child. It made him all the more endearing in my eyes.

Whenever he was in his humanoid form, Skull would place his hands so delicately, so hesitantly on my belly, and just leave them there, for as long as I would let him, desperately trying to feel his baby growing within me, and be as close to them as he could. And when the baby started to move, those touches became near constant. As inconvenient as it was, having Skull practically glued to my belly, seeing his face light up with pure joy and awe, each time our baby kicked, was more than worth it.

My husband also became even more attentive than ever, and did everything in his power to see that my needs were met. He kept making sure that I was comfortable, and happy, panicking whenever my “morning” (ha!) sickness acted up, and almost never left my side if he could help it. If there was something I wanted, he would try his best to get it for me, and had even learned to cook very simple meals, helping me around the house and the garden, whenever and however possible.

As for the things he couldn’t do, my familiars were more than capable of handling those. Both Missy and Hermes were frequently sent out to go fetch whatever food I was currently craving, with a note, a small bag, and some money clutched in their mouth or talons. Hermes was particularly adept at this, given how he was always the one who delivered the potions I brewed, to my clients.

Whenever my familiars weren’t out getting me supplies, they were either hovering protectively at my side, or were hanging out in the baby room, eagerly awaiting the little one’s arrival. Both had taken a keen interest in my child, even the normally aloof Artemis, and had appointed themselves my baby’s future protectors. A duty they both took very seriously. It was reassuring, knowing that I could always count on their support.

All in all, my pregnancy was progressing relatively smoothly, and all of us were greatly looking forward to welcoming the baby into our lives. We all already loved the child, so much, and yet we knew that our love for them would only grow stronger as time passed.

~~~

With all of these changes happening in my life, the one I least expected was how I’d begun to think about my mother again. I hadn’t thought about her much, if at all, ever since arriving in the wetlands, but now that I was about to become a mother myself, my mind would often turn to my own, late mother.

They weren’t even born yet, but I already loved my child with every fibre of my being. There was absolutely nothing that I wouldn’t do for their sake, and I was constantly thinking of ways I could ensure that they would live a healthy, happy life. I wanted only the best for my baby, and would do anything to achieve that.

All of a sudden, I could understand how my mother must’ve felt, when she was pregnant with me.

I could understand, only too well, just how desperate she must’ve been to make sure that I would not suffer the same fate as her. I could sympathise, only too keenly, with her fervent wish to see me loved and admired, by those who had hated and feared her. It was with startling clarity, that I could see exactly why she did what she did. A mother’s love was a powerful, and terrifying thing indeed.

And with that understanding, came a willingness to forgive.

The resentment I’d held in my heart, all these years, finally started to fade away.

I was finally ready to talk to my mother.

And so, on the night of the next new moon, at precisely midnight, I performed the ritual to summon Mother’s spirit from the afterlife, and bind it to her skull.

When it was done, I stepped back, and took a deep, fortifying breath, steeling myself for what was sure to be a very trying experience. It was never easy, talking to Mother, and I hadn’t done so in years. I was more nervous than I thought I would be.

When the hollow sockets of Mother’s skull lit up, those eyelights travelled around the room for a few tense seconds, before eventually settling on me.

“So, you’ve finally decided to talk to me, have you? Well, better late than never, I suppose.”

I reflexively hunched my shoulders at the chastising tone of her familiar voice, feeling like a young child once more, being scolded by her mother. I stood up straighter in defiance of that feeling, trying to dismiss it from my mind and my heart. I was an adult now, and soon to be a mother myself.

“It has, indeed, been a while, Mother.” I inclined my head to her, in acknowledgment. “I’ve been... busy, since last we spoke.”

Mother’s eyelights roved across my form, coming to a halt on my protruding abdomen. Her eye sockets widened.

“So I can see! It seems you’ve finally deigned to let someone touch you. Will wonders never cease?”

I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to rub my forehead, and soothe the ache I could feel building behind my brow. Instead, I raised my hand and gestured to Skull, who stood anxiously by the tree-cottage's entrance, his massive head peeking inside.

“Mother, I’d like to introduce you to my husband, the Forest God of these wetlands.”

Skull bowed his head in greeting, giving Mother a rather nervous-looking smile.

“hello... mate’s mother... nice to... meet you...”

Absolutely gigantic, monstrous-looking, shrouded in the darkness of a moonless night sky, and illuminated only by the glow of fireflies, and the crimson light of his eye, Skull made for quite the intimidating sight. But Mother only gave him a dismissive “hm” in response, her eyelights flitting across his features, before they returned to me.

“I’m not surprised, honestly,” she sniffed. I could practically see the shrug she was unable to give. “I always knew you’d never fall for an ordinary human.”

I had nothing to say to that, really.

Mother then turned her attention back to Skull.

“So then, what’s your name, big fella?” she asked him, her tone more casual than it had any right to be.

“Mother!” I hissed at her. “You can’t just ask that of a Forest God! It’s rude!”

The animated skull raised one of her brows, looking utterly unrepentant.

“So what?” she retorted, unabashedly. “What’s he going to do? Kill me harder? Is there another level of ‘dead’ I didn’t know about? If so, I’d like to see it. Should be an interesting experience.”

I sighed heavily, feeling my shoulders sag. This was going to be a long night. Turning to Skull, I gave my husband an apologetic look.

“Sorry about Mother. Please pay her no mind, love.”

I heard Mother harrumph behind me, but I ignored her, focusing only on my mate’s face, looking for any sign that my mother’s words had upset or angered him. But I found none. Instead, Skull was staring at Mother with what was unmistakably awe written all across his features.

“mate’s mother is... brave... and... spirited...” he remarked, sounding impressed. He then turned his head towards me. “just like... you...”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about such a comparison.

Mother gave Skull a broad, toothy grin.

“Yep. Girl’s always been headstrong and wilful, just like her mother,” she practically boasted.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, either.

Then Mother’s grin turned wry.

“It's a real wonder she’s never gotten herself into any serious trouble yet. As far as I’m aware of, at least.”

I was sure how to feel about that, however.

Affronted, I glared at Mother.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that not a single person I’ve met has ever had a bad word to say about me!”

Mother looked decidedly unimpressed.

“Of course not. They’re all too mesmerised by your beauty,” she rebutted. “A beauty I gave you, no less.”

The reminder of what had always been more of a curse to me, than a gift, stung. I shot her a baleful glare.

“I’m more than just a pretty face. So much more,” I insisted, tone carefully flat. Internally seething, I crossed my arms, my fingernails digging into my skin. “I’ve already made quite the name for myself, and the Mage’s Guild were most impressed with my talents.”

Mother snorted.

“Pah! The Mage’s Guild! That lot are nothing but a bunch of bootlickers and stuffy bookworms,” she sniffed, tone full of mocking condescension.

I bristled, offended on the Guild’s behalf, even though, secretly, I’d thought much the same about them myself.

“How dare you, Mother! The Guild is a prestigious institution!”

Mother rolled her eyelights. “Prestigious my arse.”

I gasped, utterly appalled at her foul language. “Watch your tongue, Mother!”

She shot me an incredulous look. “I haven’t got one, you daft child.”

At this point, I was about ready to hurl Mother’s skull out the window, and pray that it sank to the very bottom of the swamp, but I managed to restrain myself. Just.

Then, Mother’s eye sockets narrowed.

“Say, is that miserable old wanker still in charge?” she enquired, the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice.

My jaw dropped, as I gave her a scandalised look.

“Mother! You can’t talk about the Guildmaster that way!”

But she only scowled – an especially unnerving expression given that she was nothing but a skull.

“Bah! They’re nothing special,” she sneered, derision clear in her expression and her tone. “None of that lot are, in the Guild. In any Guild. I’ve been to many, all around the world, but they’re all the same, each one full of nothing but useless cretins. I was glad to be rid of them, when I left.”

Her shameless and irreverent behaviour was more than I could bear, especially not with a baby on the way, as well as with my sweet and soft-hearted husband having to play witness to it all. Abandoning my self-restraint and all pretence of decorum, I buried my head in my hands, letting out the biggest, long-suffering groan I could.

Skull nudged me, ever so gently, making soft, worried sounds, and I uncovered my head, to stroke his snout comfortingly, wanting to ease his concerns. His big, red eyelight gazed at me consideringly, assessing if I was truly all right, and I gave him my best reassuring smile, which seemed to satisfy him.

Meanwhile, my mother was giving me her own, scrutinising look. Her eye sockets narrowed in concentration, as her eyelights scanned me, something sharp and calculating in her gaze.

“I see you’ve managed to find a use for my old paperweight,” she remarked blandly.

I ran a hand over my face, massaging my temple in aggravation.

“Mother, the Philosopher’s Stone is a valuable artefact of unparalleled importance! It should not be used as a mere paperweight!”

But as usual, my protests fell on deaf ears. Mother was as impertinent as always.

“Well it’s not like that lousy rock was good for much else. Besides, it’s really bloody heavy! I could hardly lift the damn thing!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, mentally counting to ten, as I took deep, calming breaths. From within my womb, my child gave a hard kick, successfully dragging my attention away from my infuriating mother, and towards my darling baby. I rubbed my belly, trying to soothe my child back to sleep, and felt them settle down once more.

Skull nudged me again, more insistently, concern shining in his face and emanating from his magic.

“are you... okay...? is baby... okay...? can i... help...?” he asked me softly.

My husband’s earnest concern and care for me never failed to warm my heart. I smiled back at him, running my hands along his muzzle in gentle caresses.

“I’m fine, thank you, Skull,” I assured him.

He leaned into my touch, as desperate for affection as ever, and I couldn’t help but indulge his adorable, needy side, with more pets and a kiss to the end of his snout.

Sadly, the tender moment was ruined, and my attention was ripped away from my sweet, loving mate, and pulled back to my irritating mother, when she spoke up once again.

“Oh, so that’s his name, is it? Skull? A little uninspired, but I suppose it’ll do.”

I was close to tearing my hair out in frustration and exasperation.

“Mother! Please! Skull is both my husband and a Forest God. Try to show him at least some respect!” I practically pleaded with her, for all the good I knew it’d do.

Mother raised a browbone at me, completely unaffected by either my words or my tone.

“The living show the dead respect, not the other way around, you silly child. Besides, Skull is my son-in-law, and I’ll not treat him any differently than I would any other family member.”

Skull’s eyelight lit up like a beacon, even as the edges got fuzzy. He appeared to be on the verge of tears, as he gave Mother the most heartfelt look of wonder and gratitude.

“mate’s mother... accepts... me...?” he mumbled, voice low, and thick with emotion. “i’m... so... happy... thank... you...”

I was a little stunned at how Skull had managed to only see the positive in what my mother had said, but more than anything, I was relieved. So long as my beloved was happy, I could overlook the rest.

Even Mother seemed a little taken aback. She blinked, her eye sockets slightly wide, before she collected herself.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she told him, voice uncharacteristically sincere. “I can tell that you make my daughter happy, and that’s all I could ask for.”

The hard edges of her skull seemed to soften, and she smiled at me, one of her very rare, genuine smiles.

“I’m glad that you have someone who loves you, especially during this difficult time. I’m glad that you aren’t alone, like I was.”

That left me truly speechless. I honestly had no idea how to respond to such heartfelt words, coming from my mother of all people.

“I- I-, um...uh... Thank you, Mother...” I eventually forced out, fiddling with my fingers, and shyly averting my eyes, unable to meet my mother’s gaze.

It was sobering, being reminded of how much hardship my mother had had to endure. As far as I could tell, she’d always been alone. When I was a child, I’d never once seen her be close with anyone, and there was never any sign of her having any friends or lovers, let alone a spouse. The only companionship she had, was myself and her familiars, a black cat, a sparrowhawk, and a viper.

As a child, I’d occasionally wondered about my father. But my mother’s stony expression, whenever he was mentioned, had stayed my tongue. It wasn’t worth dredging up unpleasant memories, just to sate my meagre curiosity. My father wasn’t around, and that was all that mattered, in the end.

But now that I was about to become a mother myself, I realised how fortunate I truly was. I was grateful that I would have Skull’s love and support to rely on. I was thankful that our child would have both parents to nurture, care for, and protect them. Words could not express how much I appreciated how blessed I was, to love and be loved in return.

As if to confirm my thoughts, Skull nuzzled me, purrs reverberating from deep within his massive chest.

“not alone... never alone... you have me... always...” he promised me, tone overflowing with adoration and devotion. “i love you... i love you so... so much... i will be... with you... forever... i will... never leave... you... my precious mate... never...”

Familiar warmth flooded my chest, my heart constricting with a love of unfathomable depth. I hugged my husband’s huge head as close to me as I could, and pressed several lingering kisses to his snout.

“I love you too, Skull,” I whispered against his face. “And I’ll never leave you either. We’ll always be together.”

The Wetland God let out a deep, guttural, grating sound.

“yes... together... forever...” he agreed, the pupil of his single eyelight transforming into a little heart, as he smiled lovingly at me.

Watching our affectionate display, Mother’s lipless mouth curled into a sly grin.

“Oh, so it’s that kind of relationship.”

Drawing back slightly from my husband, I frowned harshly at my mother.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, Mother, stop it! This instant!” I bit out, through gritted teeth.

Mother chuckled, a teasing glint in her eyelights.

“Now, now, child, don’t fret, I won’t judge."

“Mother!!”

~~~

The sun was low in the sky, only just starting to dip below the horizon, dying everything a soft pinkish-orange hue. As our surroundings darkened, fireflies began making their appearance, their soft glow blending in with the will-o'-the-wisps shyly peeking out from behind the trees – an increasingly common sight, now that Skull was no longer the same violent, lonely Bog God he was before I arrived. The air was filled with the buzzing of insects, the distant croaking of frogs, and the gentle sloshing of water, as some aquatic creature broke though the surface.

It reminded me of when I first arrived in the swamp, hoping to make my home there.

The peaceful atmosphere filled me with the sweetest nostalgia, and I reclined back in Skull’s arms, sinking further into my husband’s embrace behind me. In response, the transformed deity’s arms tightened around me, his hands continuing to stroke my swollen belly, as he began purring once more. His magic practically sang, as it caressed me on all sides, echoing all of my mate’s love and happiness. Our baby also seemed to be relaxing, only giving the occasional kick to remind us of their presence.

Artemis was curled up on my lap, fast asleep, whereas Hermes was perched above us, on a nearby branch, keeping his usual vigil, regardless of how safe we were, in the very heart of Skull’s territory. Mother’s skull had been brought outside, and placed on the edge of the lip of wood at the entrance to my tree-cottage, where we were all resting. For once, Mother was blissfully silent, as she admired the beautiful scenery, and enjoyed the quiet tranquillity of the misty swamp at dusk.

My hands came up to settle atop Skull’s on my abdomen, lacing our fingers together. Skull gave my hands the very gentlest of squeezes, ever mindful of his great strength, and nuzzled his face into my hair. I could feel him take several deep breaths, likely inhaling my scent, and his purring got a little louder and deeper.

I wasn’t sure what the future would bring, or what challenges life would throw at us, but for this one moment in time, all was well. I was surrounded by my family – surrounded by all that I loved in this world. And I would hold this moment in my heart forever, and cherish it for the rest of my life.

...

~~~~~

...

Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, and the cutest little button nose. My daughter was perfect.

I was exhausted. I was in pain. But I had never been happier.

After nine months of carrying her in my womb, and many hours spent bringing her into the world, I finally held my daughter in my arms.

I was utterly entranced, as I gazed down at her with all the love in my heart and soul, feeling indescribable warmth flood through my entire body. She was so perfect.

My daughter was, for all intents and purposes, a human – a witch, like me. But her Forest God blood would likely affect her magical core in unpredictable ways. She would almost certainly have powerful, if highly unstable magic, just like her father. It would be up to me to teach her the discipline and control necessary to harness that wild, chaotic magic.

She would definitely have a very difficult path ahead of her, if she wished to master her magic, as I, and my mother, had. But if becoming a great witch was something that she wanted, then she would always have my support, and I would do all in my power to help her, in any way I could. And even if she had no interest in developing her abilities to their full potential, she would still, always have my love and support.

As well as her father’s.

Skull was hovering by my bedside, very clearly wanting to come closer, but seemingly too afraid to do so. His magic was a turbulent tornado of emotions; fear, excitement, hope, joy, love, all warring together in his soul, as he gazed down at our baby. I knew he was too overwhelmed by his emotions, to be able to hold our daughter, and would need some time to calm himself down, so I just cradled our child close and made sure that Skull had a clear view of her.

The Wetland God was almost entirely covered in tiny, vibrantly colourful flowers. While his brilliantly glittering red eyelight was fully focused on the newborn baby in my arms, his other eye socket was bursting with little marsh flowers. Furthermore, there was a veritable bouquet sprouting out of the gaping hole in his skull, and, all in all, my mate was practically a living flower sculpture. He was adorable.

I looked back down at my daughter. They both were.

I was so lucky, so blessed, to have such a wonderful family.

My life hadn’t been easy, and the road to getting to this point had been long and winding, and fraught with many obstacles. But I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Every choice I’d made may not have been the best one, but they all, eventually, led me to here, to this moment, and I was glad for it. This moment was easily the happiest of my entire life, and was more than worth every single hardship I’d ever suffered. I had no regrets whatsoever, not anymore.

Choosing to become a swamp witch really had been the best decision of my entire life.

_______________________________________________

There's only the epilogue left, but it's mostly a just a fun little bonus chapter for those who've read and enjoyed "Good Girl Needs Kiss", so this fic is basically finished now.

I really wish my head were a little less fuzzy and achy, so that I could actually think clearly and give this fic the send-off I feel it deserves, but this cold has been dragging on for a bit, and I've been writing this for too long and am way too impatient to finally get it out. I've had a lot of fun writing this, but I'm happy to put it mostly behind me, and finally move onto something else. I'm not sure when the epilogue will be out, maybe soon if I'm really impatient, or maybe not if I want a break.

By either way, I'm taking it easy for a bit. Once the epilogue's done, though, I'm definitely going to be focusing on more Frans stuff, because I really miss writing it.

=> Epilogue

#JMB writes #skull x reader #forest god au #forest god skull #reader is a witch #skull is baby #they both get lots of love and cuddles #fluff #so much fluff #more characters!#who don't get as much screen time as I'd like #but also too much at the same time #why did every single part of this chapter take twice as long to write as it should've??#I cannot stress enough that this whole fic was supposed to be SHORT

9 notes · View notes

void-ink-studios · 5 months

Text

Kiss of Life

I hope y'all are happy. You infested my brain with fankid worms. I both love and hate every single one of you for encouraging this.

So, I guess enjoy part one of however many parts I decide to write. Today's adventure: Scarab's crippling fear of not being enough and realizing he's not as alone as he thinks he is.

Note, this is a direct continuation of Wrath of the Wishmaster. If you haven't read that, you can read it all under the "Wrath of the Wishmaster" tag on my blog, or read it in its entirety on AO3 here.

Heads up for this chapter: There's implied sexual content.

Word Count: 3,800

“I’m not sure if you can hear me from in there…” Scarab sighed. He let his mandibles click quietly as he sat in front of the burrow’s entrance. “It’s… it’s me. Your Papa…”

What was he doing? This wasn’t natural… none of this was natural to him… Why was he pretending like he knew anything about what he was doing?

“I’m… Prismo, your father, he… he said talking is good for young…”

He chittered, letting his talons link together as he tried his best to stay alert.

He was so tired… When was the last time he slept?

“But… Well, he’s not like me… He’s human… Actually, I’m not sure he’s even that. He’s the dream of a human. It’s funny, almost. Infinite cosmic power, still bound by a… mammalian brain. Although, I wonder if I’m any better.”

He chuffed, thinking about Prismo. His Prismo. His sweet, beautiful, frightened Prismo.

So, so frightened…

It’s not like Scarab wasn’t. Far from it, in fact.

He wasn’t sure how good of a front he was holding, but he at least didn’t try to let it show. He needed to be strong. For Prismo and the little one in the burrow behind him. But dear Glob, was he terrified.

“...He’s worried about you… He’s worried we’re not holding you right now. Says that babies need to be held. I… I wouldn’t know much about how mammal babies need to be reared… I take his word on it. But… Well, you’re my kin too. And I know how important the brood burrow is…”

He felt aimless in this one sided conversation. He pressed his head against the wall, listening for anything. Any sign of life.

“I’m not sure if you know how… hard it is… To resist digging you out early… Please. I need one hint that you’re okay. Give me some sign that you’ll emerge, and I get to hold you.”

He listened again. He wasn’t sure if the walls were too thick, or if any noise was too quiet, or if… something worse had happened. But, regardless of reason, it was still the same outcome. Silence.

He made a wounded sound, clicking his talons together as he fought to stay awake. When did his eternity come to this?

He blamed Life.

He was so swept up in the excitement of seeing her again that he didn’t think of the implications of what happened that night.

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

There was something... decidedly off about Life today.

First it was even a shock she made an appearance at all today. Ever since... what happened to her family, Life mostly pulled away from the social affairs of the gods.

Scarab couldn't blame her.

Death was a loss that hit all of them hard. A distinct hole in their hearts, one that was only rubbed raw at the attitude of his successor.

Scarab had only met Death's child once or twice before everything went to flames. Aggressive, stubborn, immature. Expected for such a young thing, unfortunate for the child of two of the most respected gods in the pantheon, and painfully unready for the destiny he was bestowed.

When he and Prismo got the news... Scarab had not known pain like that in millennia. Death was his friend. One of his first. One of the only gods who treated him with kindness from the start. Prismo and Cos were equally devastated.

It was the first funeral the Pantheon hosted in a long time.

It was at that funeral that Scarab spoke to New Death and Life for the last time.

New Death proceeded to brush off everyone as "old and lame" and disappeared to the Dead Worlds, never to come out.

Life just sighed sadly, thanked them for coming, pecked each of them on the cheek, and left for the Well of Life.

Life hadn't been seen since, not until New Death fell to an old fox. And even then, it was only to say a curt hello to Mr. Fox as the latest incarnation of Death. And to tell Prismo that Finn and Jake had decided to reincarnate. That he might see his friends again, someday.

It was a... difficult swirl of emotions that day. For a lot of different reasons.

So, seeing Life at all was... complicated. Prismo was elated, showing her all of the strange flowers that their wish magic had created. She chuckled quietly and listened to the Wishmaster and his blabbering.

Scarab was unsure on how to approach her. He missed her, dearly. He understood why she pulled away but... couldn't help but feel hurt by it. They might not have loved Death the way she did, but they were still his friends. They all would've been there for her. For each other.

But... well, he thought of what he'd be like if he lost Prismo. He couldn't blame her.

Wait, were they coming closer?

Oh Glob, look alive Scarab.

"Ah, Scarab dear, how are you?"

"I'm okay, Life. It's nice to see you here. It's been... too long."

"Yes, it has... and, for that, I'm sorry. But, I just... something compelled me here. To you, and Prismo. You two seem to be well."

"Yeah, things have been pretty great! Life, you gotta come to game night, we'd love to see you again." Prismo pulled Scarab into his side, making the beetle chirp in surprise.

"I know... I'd love to spend more time with you boys as well. It's just... things have been... difficult."

Scarab hummed, nodding. "We understand, Life. But, we insist, the Time Room is always open to you, no questions asked. We'd love to have you."

Life smiled sadly, humming.

"I might take you up on that offer, Scarab. You'll have to tell me all about these lovely little blooms you've somehow created. They're utterly fascinating. It's not every day new life is created."

Scarab felt his face blush a little, but smiled, taking her hand in his. "Come, let's enjoy the party. Have some punch."

It was nice, spending time with Life again.

She laughed, she danced with Cos, she told stories about the many souls that passed through her Grotto every day.

She seemed lighter.

Scarab wasn’t sure what had changed, but it was welcome. Anything to have this small piece of his friend back.

When all was said and done, and things were winding down, Life stuck around. She seemed to be pondering the Time Room, and the lovely secret garden of crystals and flowers the pair had created for themselves.

“I still don’t understand it” she whispered.

“What’s that, Life” Prismo asked.

“Something… compelled me here, my dear. I’m not sure what.”

Scarab hummed, considering. “Perhaps it was simply the Dream Liles, Life. You said yourself, it’s not every day new life is created.”

She narrowed her eyes, deep in thought. She sighed, before smiling at the two Wishmasters.

“Perhaps you’re right, Scarab. I should… be going now, I think. It was nice, seeing you boys again.”

“Feel free to ring any time, Life!”

Life smiled at Prismo’s sweet words, her heads uncoiling and placing a kiss on both Scarab and Prismo’s cheeks. Small flowers bloomed from the spot, until they fell away to the floor.

“Have a good evening, my dears.”

And with that, she was gone.

As Scarab returned to cleaning, he felt the tell tale tingle of a certain Wishmaster’s arms winding snuggly around his waist and chest.

“Prismo.”

“Hmmmm?”

“Prismo, we need to clean this up.”

“The trash will still be there in a few hours, Lovebug…”

Scarab rolled his eyes, turning his head to lock eyes with the pink Wishmaster. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I didn’t hear a no.”

“Prismo, there is a non-zero percent chance someone comes back because they forgot something. As much as I love your touch, that is not something I wish to share with the rest of the pantheon.”

Prismo chuckled, kissing the back of his neck. “Greedy bug. Keeping me all to yourselves?”

“As if you wouldn’t bite at anyone who tried to pull those embarrassing noises from me. You’re just as greedy.”

“Hmm… Guilty. Still not hearing a no.”

Scarab shivered as Prismo gave his waist a light squeeze, his fingers starting to trace the grooves in his shell, spots he knew would make the Auditor melt under the touch.

“...Let me at least finish cleaning. If you’re going to make a mess, might as well get this one out of the way.”

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

Scarab felt his mind drift back to the present. He sighed, nuzzling his head against the wall he leaned against.

“...I wish I could reassure him. Your father loves you very much, already. I do too.”

He tapped his talons against the featureless gray blocks of the Time Room’s basement, thinking.

“I’ve never known a member of my kind to… say such things about their children. Much less guard the brood burrow like this…” He paused, thinking about home. “Where I’m from… well, children are raised by everyone. Protected by everyone around you. In my old life, that was part of my job… I’d walk around to make sure nothing was getting into the brood burrows. Keep little grubs like you safe… You’d be safe, in the Mounds…”

He sighed, shaking his head. Thinking like that would do no good, it just worked him up again.

“You’re safe here… I know in my heart, you’re much safer here than you would be in a real burrow.”

There was nothing that could get into the Time Room that Prismo or Scarab didn’t want to be there. Much less the basement. No wayward wishmaker, no unwelcomed god, no weather or predators could even get a sniff of this place.

He knew that. He knew Prismo knew that.

And yet, here he was, with his sword at the ready, guarding it religiously.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for you… All my life, I was taught that it takes a community to raise a child. When I left the Mounds and interacted with mortals, I couldn’t believe that some children were raised by a single adult. Or even by a single other child. It was inconceivable to me, the responsibility. And yet…”

He wondered, vaguely, what Cricket would do. He wondered if Cricket ever had a brood of their own. He thought they would. The thought didn’t do much other than squeeze his heart.

“...Sometimes I wish I could reassure myself. But… I suppose talking helps. A compromise. We can’t hold you, not yet, but I can at least speak to you.”

He pondered what he was doing exactly. “I feel like death. But I’m not leaving you. Not until I know you’re safe. If that takes until the day you emerge, so be it.”

He thought of the Mounds again. What it would’ve been like to grow up without everyone else around.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this by himself, why did he have to do this without his mound? He hadn’t considered children after leaving home. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t keep a child happy and safe by himself, he was barely managing to guard this burrow, which he was tasked to do once upon a time.

What had happened to him?

Maybe the eternity of life had changed him. Maybe Prismo’s mammalian sentimentality was rubbing off on him. Maybe…

He clutched his stomach absently.

“...You are the first egg I’ve ever had, little one. Quite possibly the only egg I’ll ever have.”

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

Scarab knew something was different. His belly felt… heavy in a way it never had before.

He felt skittish. Defensive, even. Like everything was a threat.

He was clingy to Prismo. He hid in burrows much more often, even when he was feeling better than usual. He hissed at overly aggressive Wishmakers.

But, above all, he felt that heaviness.

He thought he was sick, somehow. In all his millenia of life, he’d never gotten… ill. But maybe it had finally happened. Living forever at least guarantees everything will eventually happen.

He’s never taken a day off. So, it was nice to have the vacation days saved up, despite the look of mild surprise the Organizer had when he turned in his paperwork.

So, he was free to relax in the Time Room. But he still wasn’t sure what was wrong.

It was worrying him.

At least Prismo was as doting as he was. The Wishmaster stayed curled around him most of the time, keeping his proboscis wet with tea and soup, constantly warm in soft blankets. He couldn’t ask for anything better, in all honesty.

“How’s my Lovebug today? Any better?”

Scarab chirped distantly, shaking his head. “I wish I knew what was happening… I don’t like this… this useless feeling.”

Prismo hummed, touching Scarab’s forehead. No fever. This whole thing baffled the Wishmaster as much as it did the Auditor.

Then Prismo did something he hadn’t yet, mostly because Scarab hissed at him when he tried. But today, the beetle was just distracted enough to let his hand approach tenderly.

He touched Scarab’s stomach.

At first, the beetle tensed, starting to hiss, even considering biting Prismo’s hand for the audacity. But, after a moment, the urge died. The hiss stuttered to a stop. Something in his hindbrain flipped a switch.

Scarab felt his body relax, truly relax, probably for the first time in days. His wings vibrated absently, a soft purr falling from his mandibles.

“Woah… Lovebug, you okay?”

Scarab felt his brain go a little dumb. Things slowed, and a pleasant cloud fell over his thoughts. He didn’t verbally respond, instead offering a quiet chirp in affirmation.

Prismo was… well, completely confused. Scarab didn’t relax like this even on the best of days. It just… didn’t compute with the beetle’s wiring. He was always alert, always attentive, always aware. He’s never seen his love so… limp.

Should he be worried…?

The Wishmaster curled around him, continuing to pet gently, pressing kisses to the side of Scarab’s head.

Their lives continued like that for a few days longer. Scarab would eat, he’d sleep, and then he’d cling like a tic. He was still worried, especially after Prismo told him what happened when his stomach was touched, but he decided to not dwell on it. It had to be over soon.

And, in a way, it was.

Because Life then stormed into the Time Room muttering something. Prismo thought he recognized the language, a long distant one…

It took a moment for that to sink in. Then the Wishmaster felt his stomach drop.

Uh oh. She only spoke like that when… something major was happening.

He held the sleeping Scarab close, making nervous noises as the goddess approached them.

“Unbelievable! Were you not planning on telling me?!”

“U-Uhm… What?”

“Do not play dumb with me, young man” she scolded. A mane of snakes erupted from her shoulders as she continued to pace and babble, finally arousing Scarab from his slumber.

“Hmm… Life…? Is that you?”

“Scarab! How could you not tell me?!”

Prismo felt Scarab bristle as she spoke.

“Tell you… what?”

“Of all goddesses not to tell! The audacity!” She whirled around, glaring down at the two younger gods in sheer frustration.

Scarab made a nervous noise, one Prismo is familiar with. One that he made when he was afraid something might hit him.

Nope, that wouldn’t fly.

“Life!” The goddess stopped pacing, a little startled by Prismo’s sudden raise in volume. “You need to calm down. You’re making Scrabby nervous. We don’t know what you’re talking about, Wishmaster’s honor.”

That seemed to at least make the goddess stop and breathe. Her extra snakes slowly retreated back into her shoulders as she leaned in close to examine Scarab.

“You… You don’t know…?”

Scarab shook his head. “What’s this about, Life…?”

She finally cracked a smile, running a gentle hand over the top of his head. She hushed him as he made a nervous noise, which soon fell into small, pleased trills.

“Scarab dear… You bare life. New life.”

There was a loud silence in the Time Room as both Wishmasters stared at the goddess. There was a beat. Then two. Then maybe three more.

“...What…?”

Scarab’s voice sounded so small.

“You bare life, Scarab. I can feel it.”

Scarab clutched his stomach, feeling that weight again. It felt… solid. Round.

No… he couldn’t be…

“Life… Life, are you certain?”

“It is my duty to be certain, Scarab. There is an egg, deep in your core. And it is alive.” She pressed a gentle hand onto his belly, nodding definitively.

Prismo was silent. Too silent. The beetle reached for the Wishmaster’s hand, making a pleading noise.

“Prismo…?”

He didn’t look up at the dream. He felt the grip around him loosen, the hands moments ago keeping him snug and warm now trembling in the air around him, dragging a wounded sound from Scarab.

“...Prismo, please say something…”

“An… An egg…” The Wishmaster’s voice was so much smaller than he’d ever heard. He made a few aborted starts before going silent again.

“I know this is… a lot to take in dears, especially if it was not expected… Just know, I am here for the both of you. Whatever it is you chose to do.”

Scarab chewed on his talons, millions of thoughts racing through his head at once. “...W-Wait… one egg? Are you certain it’s only one…?”

“Yes Scarab. Only one.”

“That’s… that’s not right… m-my species, we’re supposed to… carry clutches of 4, at least… S-Some of them don’t make it… You’re telling me I only have one chance…?”

His mind was falling apart.

One egg.

That’s why he never suspected an egg of all things to be the cause of his odd feelings. The elders at the mounds always described it differently. That one could feel the individual eggs as they grew.

But he only had one.

“I… Did… Am I…” There were so many things he tried and failed to ask. He felt tears spring to his eyes, his heart thudding behind his shell. “A-Am I failing already…? Why don’t I have a clutch? Am I defective?” His thoughts were spiraling, and he couldn’t hear Life’s reassurances over them.

He must’ve done something to fail already. Maybe eternity made him nearly barren. Maybe his life as an Auditor did more damage than he thought. Maybe… he wasn’t fit to carry eggs, something about him was wrong, that must’ve been it.

“Lovebug.”

All of his thoughts stuttered to a halt. He hadn’t even realized his breathing was failing him. His face felt wet.

He felt hands, warm hands, wind around him again. He nearly sobbed in relief at their return, his whole body trembling. “I-I’m sorry… I-I’m sorry I’m not a good carrier…”

“No, no Lovebug. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I froze. I was so startled by the news, I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t do anything wrong, baby, nothing wrong.”

Scarab shook his head, sobbing into Prismo’s chest. The Wishmaster hushed him, running gentle hands all around his body before one settled on his belly, just like before.

“We’re in this together, okay? You know we are, Lovebug. But you are not defective. I would never think of you like that. We’re going to take this one step at a time. Whatever you think we need to do.”

Scarab didn’t move for a long time. He let the fog settle over his brain as he tuned out the world around him.

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

Scarab felt like a mess. He wiped the tears away from his eyes as he took another cleansing breath.

“I wish I could hear you, little one… I wish I knew I was making the right choices…”

He traced nonsense patterns onto the floor as he thought.

“You know what keeps me going? Thinking about what you might emerge as. I wonder what your wings may look like. I hope you have your father’s kind soul. I hope you have my focus.”

He had tried many times before this to picture his child. He wondered if they’d stay pure red, like him. Or if Prismo’s colors might bleed in somewhere. But, no matter how he thought about it, the image would slip through his fingers, like water. He sighed, rubbing his face.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, little one. But… I hope you know, despite everything that may come to pass, I love you already. You’re my little grub. I can’t wait to meet you. And… I hope you can forgive an old beetle for whatever… mistakes I may make.”

He didn’t see Prismo, watching from around the corner. He didn’t see the Wishmaster’s worried, sad smile as he listened to Scarab’s little speech.

But Prismo saw the tears. The worry lines etched into his partner’s brow and eyes.

“There is so much I want to teach you… I’ve been all around the multiverse. I’ve seen things most can only imagine. I hope to one day show it to you, even if only a fraction. I look forward to the day we can fly together, through the void. Even if you might not get it the first few tries, I’ll be there to catch you. I wasn’t a strong flier myself when I was young.”

He smiled tiredly to himself as he imagined.

“I’m not sure if this is what Prismo meant when he said to talk to you. I’m not sure if you can process the words I’m saying. Or if just hearing my voice is enough. I wonder if reading the dictionary would have the same effect. None of this is natural for me… But for you, I will try anyway, my little star. So… if you can hear me, I’m not sure if you understand what I’m saying. But… well, I hope you can understand this.”

Scarab began to chirp, slowly humming into a song. It was a soft one, something relaxed to be carried by the air. A mix of low rumbles, gentle chirps, and light whistling. He felt his eyelids grow heavy, but onwards he persisted.

The Wishmaster slowly approached the beetle, sitting down quietly next to him. He pulled Scarab into a warm embrace.

“Sleep, Lovebug.”

He shook his head. “Have to watch… Have to keep them safe…”

“You’ve done such a good job, baby… But you need rest. I’ll take over from here for now. You can stay right here. Just… please, sleep Scarab.”

Scarab still looked hesitant.

“Promise me… promise me you’ll wake me if something happens…”

“Of course. Like I said, we’ll stay right here. Get some rest, beautiful.”

The warm touches going up and down his back were certainly tempting. His eyes felt so heavy. His body trembled, finally giving up, leaning into Prismo’s chest.

“There we go. Sleep now. I’ll keep everything safe. I’ll keep you both safe.”

Scarab let a pitiful chirp fall from his mouth before his eyes slid closed. Yes, Prismo would hold down the fort…

As much as it overwhelmed him to think about raising a child alone, that was something to remember.

He wasn’t alone.

Not as long as he had Prismo.

#prohibitedwish #scarab x prismo #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #prohibitedwish fanfic #wrath of the wishmaster

47 notes · View notes

whomstress · 5 months

Text

What it Takes to Feel Real (Part 2)

[Part 1] So this was only supposed to have 2 chapters but I can't help myself and took advantage of my chronic insomnia and wrote until 5 am to finish this chapter. The next next fic I write after this will be very wholesome promise, but this ones a major angst if you couldn't tell from the last chap lol. SO anyway next chapters last one! Oh and it's a doozie.

It’s been a year of being on and off, and eventually a fully fledged couple, to get him to really open up to her. She was his confidant, and he was hers. But it was different with him. Ragatha, though really not liking to bother anyone in the slightest, did occasionally let someone know if she was a little bit down or worried about something if someone had caught on. She’d gotten better at it since being with Jax, but she's still a people-pleaser at heart, rarely wanting anyone to worry for her.

Jax, on the other hand, never gave the slightest clue to his being in a bad place. Sure, he didn’t hide it when he was annoyed or angry, but anything deeper than that, and if someone even mentioned it to him, he’d find a way to make them back off as quick as he could.

Ragatha had always been different about it, though. As much as he wanted her to back off, especially when they were not as close, she may have stopped asking verbally but made sure to be watching him from the corner of her eye, and if things got worse, she made sure to check on him even if he hated it. He appreciated it.

Well, for the most part, when she finally got through to him, he would “allow” her to comfort him. He’d let her into his room or come into hers, most of the time at some hideous time in the middle of the night, where not a soul could see them, and sit silently in his presence. Every time he wouldn’t say a word and wouldn’t let her touch him, besides once or twice, they would stay as completely still as possible. But he would let her lay on the bed, not too far from her, sitting on the floor against it, and slowly let his tense body relax in her company. He’d sometimes allow her to sing soothing songs, all as he stared blankly at the wall, like he was looking beyond all this and nowhere at all. She appreciated when he did because he would relax faster, and depending on how bad his mood was, he would too.

She eventually realized that what had really comforted him the most was that he just didn’t want to be alone. She had no idea what he was thinking about the long, mostly silent nights. She was there, relaxing barely an inch at a time, but she was happy she could help him. Helping people and helping him made her feel useful. As if she was needed, and it made her alive and made her feel human again.

At times, Ragatha truly didn’t like him, and she was sure his feelings were mutual. Still, they understood each other like no one else.

They were two sides of the same coin. Even if it was for the opposite reasons, neither wanted others to worry about them. Both engaged with the fellow characters more than anyone else because focusing on other people allowed them to ignore what was going on with themselves. Keeping other people at arms length while refusing to live alone. Because of this, they saw through each other like a window. They both constantly needed to be reminded of what was real and what was fake.

When no one else had a single clue, they only needed to see the slightest crack in each other's mask to know something was wrong. They were so different and yet so similar. She supposed that’s why they got together; opposites attract.

Finally, when they were together, she allowed him to comfort her. She knew it had always been a surprise to him how the girl, who couldn’t go a single day without checking in on someone, pushed people away from herself so far when she was down. So, when she finally came to him for a change, he made a joke if she was sure, and she almost left, causing him to roll his eyes and literally drag her back in.

Unlike him, she needed touch, warmth, and something to hug; even when she was alone, she’d hold a pillow of plushie for dear life. He was definitely uncomfortable with this, never being one to like this sort of touch, but sooner or later they fell into a familiar pattern. She started spending more nights than not, sleeping in his room wrapped in his arms. It even became a favorite pastime. Not needing to sleep, they really never felt physically tired before, so the deep desire to be drifted to sleep by the comfort of his warmth was one of the few luxuries she’s had since she’s been here. She’d occasionally wake up to find him blankly staring at her with a relaxed expression, studying her face. Which was kind of weird but also endearing if she was being honest.

However, as wholesome as that was, they were still adults. Adults with needs and wants that would be highlighted when their bodies were intwined and their kisses turned from soft to passionate. Ragatha knew Jax had always made crude jokes, but she tried to never acknowledge them before. Not until she knew they weren’t quite jokes anymore, from the way his eyes bored into her when he made them. He was testing the waters and asking if she would let him swim. Without going into detail because, well, she doesn’t think that’s possible from how she turns into a blushing, bumbling mess at even the mention of the stuff. Things between them escalated.

It was after three months of them. Ahem, as they were getting “busier.” Before the news of her lifetime came.

She wanted to tell Jax the second she found out, hop into his arms with what she believed to be great news, and have him spin her around and kiss her senseless in joy. But that wasn’t Jax; it never was, so she’s not surprised by his reaction.

“How was this even possible? This isn’t real.”’ That was the first thing Jax said to her when she told him the news Caine confirmed the day before.

Yes, not surprised, but still disappointed.

He’d finally told her what it was that helped him stay sane. He said none of this was real, and as long as he knew that, he’d be okay. She did have to admit it hurt when he said it, especially when he’d sat and “wished” it was after an intimate moment between them. Because in those moments, that was exactly what made her feel the realist. Though she did not agree and they had small spiffs about it, she let it slide because if that’s what kept him here, she really didn’t mind. Until now.

“How can this happen?” He added instantly.

Ragatha tried to laugh it off, saying, “I’m pretty sure of all people you know how this happened.”

He didn’t laugh—not even a smirk—just stare at her with a slight furrowed eyebrow and a blank expression. She frowned; she didn’t like that look, which never meant anything good. She couldn’t stand it anymore and looked away, but he didn’t. The silence got to her after a while, and she held a hand over her abdomen and said, “Caine says it's a girl.” She looks up at him to see him studying her face, like he was trying to figure out a calculus problem in his head. She looks back down at her hand and smiles softly. “I’ve always wanted a girl, you know.”

It’s silent a long time again before she hears him thump his foot hard on the ground, causing her to look up at his angry expression. She’s so shocked she couldn’t even get a word out before he marches out, saying, “I’m going to kill the mother!#$@%!" This isn’t right! How dare he do this to you!"

It takes her another moment to realize he’s not angry at her; he’s angry for her. Like Caine, had heard her dreams and took advantage of them for his entertainment. As if he did her wrong. She couldn’t see how he would think that. Ragatha was ecstatic about the news. Call her cliche, but one of her dreams since she was a child was to have a baby with the love of her life, and she did. That and to own a candy shop, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

She didn’t care about the circumstances, and she told them that eventually he was locked back in his room in a “time-out” after apparently somehow getting Caine to open the basement and pushing him in. It took her a long time, but after he accepted, she really wasn’t upset and saw how genuinely happy he was about everything. Looking forward to their baby more and more every day. He calmed down. And they mostly stopped trying to murder Caine.

No matter how much he helped or was careful with her, she knew his feelings were all messed up about everything. She had to ask him to stop saying out loud how strange all her symptoms were if she wasn’t even “really” pregnant. She knew it helped him, and maybe it was her hormones, but she really couldn’t put up with things like she used to. Especially when the father of her child keeps telling her that the aches, pains, and literal kicks growing inside her every day aren't “real.” Not a single soul couldn't tell her this was real. She knew what she felt; she was going to be a mother. No one could deny that.

As much as Jax was grossed out, he was there for the whole birth, allowing Ragatha to practically crush his gloved hand into cartoon silt. He joked more than usual, she supposed, because he was nervous. It was comforting to see that the only other people in the room were medical staff. Ai’s Caine had no faces and could somehow still talk. It was beyond creepy, but Ragatha barely had time to complain. She tried to have Pomni and Gangle come as her best friends, but Ponmi instantly fainted the moment the doctor went to check on her. Jax rolled his eyes, calling her a surprisingly bigger wimp than Gangle, who had to physically drag the other girl out. Ragatha was still happy; she tried her best when she warned that this might happen.

Their daughter was finally born, and Ragatha happily cried at how beautiful she was holding the newborn to herself, like she was the most precious thing in the world. Which she was.

As ironic as it was, they named her Marionette when they finally got to see her for the first time. They had other names planned, but for the little purple pastel rabbit girl with the sweetest curls on her head, who looked like a custom doll, the name was all too fitting.

She was everything Ragatha wanted and more. Her pupils were the cutest little blue buttons; she had no nose, but still, her face was mostly human-looking. Her fur was as soft as a real rabbit, like Jax, and the itty-bitty curls on her head matched Ragatha. She hushed her baby as she cried until she calmed down. Fianlly was able to kiss her head and feel her warmth and breath against her. She was finally able to hold her beautiful baby, which had been growing inside her for the last nine months. She was a mother; this was her baby, she had made out of love. Nothing could ever change that.

Jax, though looking fondly at them, snapped her out of her thought, saying, “Jesus, Ragatha. How are you crying louder than a literal baby? That’s the only thing she knows how to do.”

She laughs at that. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. But, just look at her, Jax!”

“I am,” he said, but there was something about him she only noticed now. He may have had a lazy smile on his face, but his whole body was tense as a slab of stone, and he was standing only as close to her as possible to not cause suspicion. His arms were tightly crossed at his chest, like he was scared to touch anything.

A frown slowly went to her lips, devastation coming over her. “What’s wrong?”

He looks like he desperately wants to say something, but still looking at Marionette with an unreadable expression, he says, “Nothing you’d want to hear in the moment.” When he looks up at Ragatha and lets out a sigh, forcing himself to calm down by reading her mind, he says, “I’ll tell you later. I promise… It has nothing to do with you two. It’s me.”

Searching him like she figures out everything with a blink of his eyes, she accepts that whatever it is, he means it. It’s not about them. “Would you like to hold her?" Ragatha asks without thinking.

Jax's eyes widen, but he looks at the little girl again, and then at Ragatha, with a shit-eating grin stretching back on his face. “I mean, I think I deserve it after all the pain I went through today. Seriously, sitting in that chair so long with my hand, ooh, aaah, that's got to be the worst pain I’ve ever felt. They should really do something to make things more comfortable for the people doing the hard work."

Her face is deadpan before he even finishes, and though she’s happy he’s joking, she is too tired to deal with his nonsense right now. “Will you please just hold your damn child and shut up?"

Jax laughs; she uses one of the few words that passes the censors and moves over to grab the half-sleeping baby. "Yeah, yeah, lemmie, finally see this twerpet up close.”

"I’m going to hurt you. I mean it.” She says holding on to the baby a little longer before he coaxes her to hand her over.

"Alright, let’s take a look at you,” he says as the baby shifts a little, opening her eyes a bit more. He looks over her a little intensely, but still with a softer expression than before. He comments and jokes every once in a while about which features are his and which are Ragatha's, but for the most part, he stays silent. As much as she wants to hold her baby again, she is more tired than she’s ever been in her life and decides to let her eyes drift shut as she watches him be more soft with her than she’s ever seen.

She’s a second away from sleep when she sees her baby's tiniest little hand wrap around his finger, and the saddest look fills his face as a tear falls down. She was unable to keep her eyes open any longer. But there is one last moment before her world turns to black; she unmistakably hears him. A whisper of desperation: “Why can’t you be real?”

#mia writes #jax #ragatha #jax x ragatha #pomni #gangle #tadc caine #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #ragatha x jax #the amazing digital circus #tadc #bunnydoll

38 notes · View notes

fairlyaltheticquails · 11 months

Text

give me some tips to forget you (part two)

ford pines x reader

fool me once, shame on me. fool me twice?

word count: 1975

angst. argument with no resolution. out-of-pocket things said. part three coming soon.

chapter two: tell me whose side are you on, dear?

Leaves crunch under your feet as you walk. The only other sounds you can pick up are the wind blowing through the large trees surrounding you, and the light squeal of the Anemometer on the roof of the building in front of you. It’s beautiful. The warm oranges and yellows of the leaves scattering the ground contrast the wooden a-frame shack nicely. The isolation provided by the woods only aids the image. It looks like somewhere Ford would enjoy. What worries you are the large amounts of barbed wire fencing lining the property, paired with a large sign next to you reading “Stay Out”. Various types of equipment surround the area, including a large radio tower that idly blinks at you. This doesn't look like a house or lab, it looks like a maximum security prison. You pull out the letter again. The page fights against the chill autumnal breeze as you unfold it. The single line of writing stands stark against the paper.

‘618 Gopher Road, Gravity Falls, Oregon. Come alone.’

There's no name on the letter, nor the envelope. But the neat cursive could only belong to one person. Papers scattered across library tables, scribbled words in the margins of your notebook after a particularly long lecture, notes left stuck to your dorm room door after he had to speed away for a lab and couldn't meet you to study. It’s all the same. It's the writing you would see in your dreams after the letters slowed to a halt, just as you knew they would. The same writing that told you after graduation he was moving out west to research, the same writing that told you he would keep in touch and that you could send letters any time you needed to. And for a little while you did. A letter from him would typically end up back in your mailbox after a week or two, giving updates on his progress or his new life in the pacific northwest. As time went on, slowly you'd maybe get one letter for every two sent, and then no response for months only to get a short non-descriptive note blaming lack of time with empty promises of answering properly soon. It never happened. Your last letter was sent back to you with a large “return to sender” stamp emblazoned across the envelope.

You didn't know what to think when this one was dropped off unceremoniously after almost a year of nothing. You initially threw it away in anger, how dare he reach back out after all this time only to tell you to travel cross country with no explanation as to why? The guilt, deeply buried hope, and a probably unrequited wish for more, made you pull the letter back out of the bin, uncrumple the paper, and start making plans to leave.

A particularly loud squeal from the spinning rooftop instrument makes you snap back to the present. Taking a deep breath, you cross the point of no return towards the front door. As it grows nearer, the flurry of anxiety in your stomach grows more intense. Unstable legs climb the steps, coming to face the door.

“Toughen up. You've known Ford forever, why are you so nervous to see him now?”. Truth be told, you didn't know what you'd find on the other side. You hadn't seen him in person for several years and hadn't gotten more than a few written words for half of that time. But still, you hold a hope that this visit will fix things. Seeing each other will bring back the spark you had. Raising a hand, you knock on the door. Several moments pass…

Nothing.

Not even a vague sign of life from the inside.

You raise your hand back up to knock again when the door is abruptly thrown open. Before you can process what is happening, a hand grabs your upper arm tightly and yanks you up. You yelp in shock as your balance falters. You look up at the hands' owner and into the face of someone you once knew.

Ford has looked better. He hasn't shaved in several days, his stubble fitting alongside his very messy, tangled hair. His glasses sit slightly askew, not helping to conceal his dark bags and bloodshot eyes. Rumpled clothes only add to the look of someone who has not taken care of themselves for a very long time.

“Ford?” You ask. His eyes are dark, with evident distrust written in them. He makes no move to acknowledge you or respond. He just stares, his eyes searching for something within yours. He quickly reaches into his tan coat and produces a small flashlight, shining it directly into your eyes. The light is blinding and painful. You rip his fingers from your arm, rubbing your eyes gingerly. This action seems to sate him, but he reaches for your arm, this time quickly pulling you inside and shutting the door.

“Is anyone else out there? Did anyone see you come this way?” He hurriedly asks, turning away from you to walk briskly further into the dark home. The inside was a reflection of his turmoil. Books and various objects lay everywhere, covering every surface including the floor. Blackout curtains hung over every window, Boxes stood carefully placed in front of the other visible door, effectively barricading it. What the hell is he up to?

“Ford, what is this? What are you talking about, is everything okay?”

“Did anyone see you?” he asks again with more force behind it, more clipped. Annoyed.

“No! Ford, what the hell is this? I haven't seen or heard from you for years, and when you finally get back in touch you are acting like a total loon! What is wrong with you?” You plead. Something is very wrong, you wish you had come sooner. He keeps his back to you as he continues moving, gathering papers and objects along the way. “Ford! Stop!”

He does as you ask, surprisingly. He stops and turns to you. His face is still as unreadable as when he answered the door. You close some of the space he created, carefully crossing over the minefield of a floor, and stop just short of an arm's length away.

“Please just tell me what's going on,” you say, tone much kinder than your previous exclamation. His face doesn't change, but you see his eyes soften slightly.

“Follow me,” he says. He motions towards a concealed doorway, walking towards it, only glancing back to ensure you're following. The doorway lets into a dark, steep staircase leading to an elevator, no doubt going somewhere deep below the foundations of the home. Ford opens the doors and you both step inside.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“I like your place. The woods are beautiful around here.” You say, desperately trying to fill the silence as you descend. Your mind flashes back to the thousands of easy conversations you used to be able to have with Ford. You wish it were still that easy.

“Thank you. It has served me well in my research.” he replies curtly.

The elevator opens to a study, which isn't much more organized than the space above. However, it is much more unsettling. There are triangles and strange symbols everywhere. Some well hidden, some in plain sight. You take in your surroundings for a moment before Ford clears his throat.

“I've made a grave mistake. I don't know who I can trust anymore, if anyone.” He opens a secret compartment built into a desk and pulls out a red book. The book has a golden, six-finger hand with a large number one in the middle. He holds it out to you. “I need you to take this, take it back home with you, the sooner the better, and hide it. Don't give it up for any reason. No matter who asks.”

He shakes the book expectantly, motioning for you to take it. You gently take it from him. The book is heavy and has had much use, but you don't open it. You can't quite describe everything running through your mind, it's a slice of every emotion that has ever been felt. A confusing flurry rushes through you, bouncing between sadness, and joy, guilt and settling on anger.

“No”

“No? Do you even understand how import…”

“No! I don't understand because you never cared enough to write me back! Do you know how important that was to me? You promised me, Ford. Now, after all this time, you tell me to come just to send me home, and want to lecture me on what is and isn't important to you?”. You have never used this voice on Ford before. You would bicker, and argue about random insignificant topics, but you never had gotten angry with him like you were right now. It kind of surprised you, in the past you never saw yourself getting mad at him. You two were as thick as thieves then. It saddens you how much the both of you have changed. From the look on his face, he is just as surprised.

Several long moments pass before, and to your dismay, his face falls into a scowl.

“I apologize that I didn't give you a rundown of my entire life every time you asked! I should have paused my critical research to let you look over my shoulder like you always have!” he shouts. His words sting. You can feel tears hitting the back of your eyes, but you manage to hold them back.

“‘Like I always have’? What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, voice low to not reveal how close you are to tears.

Ford hesitates momentarily before he speaks. “You and Stanley are two of the same. I would have been better off if I’d left you sooner and prevented myself from having to drag you along with me.”

The words hit you all at once. Hard. The tears finally come to the front of your waterline and threaten to spill over. If Ford didn't mean it, he makes no effort to let it show in his expression. Is this why you could never get the courage to confess? Could you sense that he resented you? Is this why, despite him and his brother being best friends growing up, they hadn't been seen together in years? Why Ford hadn't mentioned him at all since leaving New Jersey?

The sound of the book hitting the ground is deafening in the dead quiet room. You hadn't even realized that you had thrown it until it smacked against the pavement. Ford jumps slightly at the sound, his eyes following the book as it skids to a stop near his feet.

“Keep your stupid book.” You mumble. Hugging yourself, you turn to go back to the elevator. He didn't want you around. All of the time you had waited for him to care as much about you as you did him was wasted. It would never happen, he just explicitly told you. All of those nights you dreamed pictures of a different life, a different world, one where you two were more than what you had been given, were just dreams. Your best friend was gone.

The tears begin to roll down your face as you step inside the elevator. Ford hasn't moved, his head only slightly tilted to watch you leave out of his peripheral vision. When you don't stop, don't come back, he leans down to pick up the book, dusting off the cover as he comes back up.

“That's fine,” He says looking down at the journal in his hands. Just before the elevator doors close you out of his life for good, you hear him add,

“There's someone else I can ask.”

#ford pines x reader #ford pines #gravity falls fic #gravity falls #my writing #gmsttfy

35 notes · View notes

the-bloody-sadist · 1 year

Note

prepare for an entire novel please because ive just finished sinner and i have so much to say. tl;dr its my favourite thing in the world thank you for writing it.

i dont know what that story did to me honestly. ive never EVER felt so..... viscerally from something written. its insane. it made me feel so numb for so long and then it made me Feel and i feel like i just went through the entire rollercoaster with dazai. it made me cry and it made my chest so so painfully tight and it made my body go numb and it made me stop caring about anything in the world aside from just. that. reading that.

i am an absolute sucker for tiny touches and gestures that feel incredibly significant. obviously, sinner is packed full of those, and i am LIVING- its so slow and meticulous and particular and everything is so significant and its SO SLOW I WISH I COULD WRITE LIKE THIS. so so slow, the way everything happens. so dragged out and full of suspense and anxiety and i cannot explain how much i adore it.

i dont know why but. the thing that made me audibly gasp and cover my mouth like i was in a movie was when dazai said "mori likes it when i play doll". i cant scream enough about it. i had to drop everything and scream at my friends about it. i cannot explain the sheer Emotion. i dont know why, i dont KNOW when after everything thats happened that just seems so silly and mild but just. it really highlights how no matter how absolutely horrible fyodor was and how much he broke dazai, dazai got there already broken. it comes so suddenly its like seven punches in the gut and then several kicks when i was already on the floor wheezing. then a bus, rolling over my entire body. twice. made my spirit leave my body for multiple minutes before i was ready to continue.

and yes the chuuya x akutagawa parts were absolute gold i am obsessed i have never thought about that ship in my life but i will never stop thinking about it ever again.

thats it, i think. i say, closing my seven page essay-

no actually fuck it now that im already here let me just say forbidden blood is also a masterpiece and i reread it like 5 times and its good every single time. ok. now thats it.

have a good day :)

Good GRIEFFFFF!!!! Talk about feeling accomplished as an author when you get an ask like this holy SHIT.

I wish I could respond to every detail but I was literally sitting there with my mouth open and little tears pricking my eyes through the whole thing because THIS!!!!! THIS IS JUST!!!! Every reaction described is everything I’ve ever wanted to hit my readers with and I am insanely pleased that it at least hit you and the others who’ve told me as much.

That is ACTUALLY crazy about the Mori line because I HIGHLY debated taking that out 😂 the entire chapter really, but mostly that line felt so corny and I was like “am I pushing it??” But now I feel great about it. So thank you.

What you said about the TINIEST touches feeling gigantic is also MY favorite thing (no surprise) and I really had never discovered that as a possibility until anime as a genre, and how that brought out a lot of subtleties feeling like pillars of emotional damage and/or healing. Whenever I write anything, I want this the most. And it really worked out for Sinner.

THANK YOU SO MUCH. This made my day. And Forbidden Blood too!!! You trooper! Thank you for the compliments on that as well!

May both sides of your pillow stay cold for eternity. 😩✊ Much love to you!

#IM CRYING #best compliment ever #sadist’s answered asks #sinner discourse #sinner reference #sinner #sinner fanfic

8 notes · View notes

lopez-richter-fangirl · 2 years

Text

Hiiii long sappy post ahead but read for info about the upcoming release of my college fic in bold!!

I’m just over halfway through final edits and the final word count is hovering at around *drum roll* 127k words 😳 If you've been following, I know what you're thinking, yes that is more words than the first draft, I promise I did cut some stuff, this is what we're working with 🤪

So now I'm like... pretty much ready for it to be out in the world? And I hope everyone loves it as much as I do because it really has become very dear to me 🥹 Structure-wise it's appalling, clearly there's still so much that needs to be cut but I'm too attached to it. But emotionally, I think it hits all the right places, there are points it makes me want to cry, there are points it was pure torture to write and yet this doesn't even cover as many years as the real life pre-relationship, there are scenes where I really think the writing is beautiful if I do say so myself. It strayed a little further from real life than I think I originally thought it might but there are still a lot of moments that feel very real to me, or at least to what I imagine they could have been. And this particular characterisation of them? They're my babies. And I had to keep reminding myself while writing it that at this point they WERE babies (18 and 21??????) 😭

I’m very excited to post the first chapter tomorrow (for a reason that will be revealed) and then twice weekly after that on Wednesdays and Saturdays 🗓 Mostly because I don't know if or when I'll write another fic so I'm not ready for this one to be over too quickly 🥺 (Side note: definitely not ruling another fic out! I truly love writing these two so much and if inspiration strikes me again I'm sure I would go for it, but this was the last solid idea I had for a whole fic and I think that's part of why I've taken so much care over it and made it so fucking long trying to include every possible idea I had, because if I am going out on this I want to be going out on a high, which I think this is. I'm gonna try and shift focus to working on some original stuff and we'll just see what happens on the fic front. Anyway!) But when I was calculating dates I realised a twice weekly schedule also means it'll be starting in September and ending in May, which feels like a fitting span for this story, even though it takes place over several years 💙💛

It's going to be a longgg journey, but I hope you'll join me for it, if you want. I've been thinking it might be fun to post the wattpad links to each chapter on here along with a little mini commentary of any thoughts I have about it, any BTS on the process, songs that particularly fit?? I know that’s what author’s notes are for but I feel more connected to my tumblr audience than to wattpad, you know? I don't know, let me know ✏️ But I'm grateful for anyone that wants to read it and any and all feedback. It's rare for me to love my writing as much as I do with this fic but I think it's because of how grounded in reality it is, they definitely feel the most true to the way I see Joey and Lauren that I've ever written them. And I'm really excited to share it with you 🥰

Shoutout to Gabi who's read all but the epilogue and tells me it's good so I know at least one person likes it before I publish it, and is also all round the best and most supportive friend ❤️

And I have to say a huge thank you to anyone who's ever read one of my fics. It started off as a single oneshot after AVPW and I now have like 175k total reads across all my works 🤯 I know that's probably the same 5 people rereading them thousands of times but that's still an absolutely mind blowing number for me. I might not have rediscovered my love of writing if it weren't for all of you. Thank you 💗

And finally here's a cover reveal for Right Place, Wrong Time ‼️ (very basic lmao but some fun/painful fitting details)

8 notes · View notes

thousand-winters · 1 year

Note

✨️✍️👓🥳🌻📗

And maybe: 🎁 (I’d like to see more please)

Hi there!!! 😄💕

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

Oh, my god, okay. Out of the top of my head, there's this one I think about every once in a while in So, what was your name again? of this person that said they were at work and went to the bathroom to read the final chapter and I guess it baffled me a little because I was already surprised that people liked that one so much, but then it was a little bit of the... a real person, who was at work, decided to not wait to read this thing I wrote and even went somewhere to have privacy to read it??? Unreal.

Tinglecannon’s comments are always such a delight to read! Those are the kind of comments that make me able to look back at what I wrote when I’m feeling embarrassed or self-conscious.

In general, I love when people start rambling in the comments, haha, like either pointing out parts they liked or theorizing when it comes to multichapters or just generally talking their heart out, I think it’s very fun! I do treasure all comments tho, I try to answer everything I get because it just makes me so happy to know someone took the time to even just type “<3″. It might take a few seconds, but those are a few seconds they actively chose to dedicate to leaving something and it’s such a nice thing.

✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?

Ngl, I had to google this to make sure I got the meaning right.

Okay, I had typed a response but now I see it says "ideal", so that's different. I don't know, as long as somewhere is comfortable and quiet, I think I would be fine? Having a computer that doesn't freeze every once in a while would probably help too.

👓 What helps you focus when you write?

Silence! I do use music as inspiration, but not when I'm actually writing, just during brainstorming and all of that. Knowing I'm not going to get interrupted also helps, so I mostly write at night or early in the morning when everyone else is sleeping.

... If I've been stalling for too long despite having the wish to write, I usually use that one Discord bot that's like "you have 15 minutes to write and then you have to tell me your word count to know how much you wrote". It's in theory to write with other people, but it helps because I just can't disappoint this little bot that has no self awareness to be disappointed in me, can I?

🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?

For fun! There isn't much more to it, I used to write fanfic and draw little fan comics of the Lord of the Rings for fun with my siblings when I was small. We didn't know fanworks were a thing, but even when I started finally "officially" writing fanfics, it was a lot of "hey, I just want to have some fun here".

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

Not often at all! Once I've finished and posted something, I do tend to reread it once or twice, but outside of that, I mostly reread what I wrote if someone leaves a comment about this or that part. It's a bit like "really? was it truly good? 😊". It's the validation that breaks the embarrassment askjfhkjsdg

📗 Do you want to write something outside of fanfiction? If so, what about?

Not really. I used to when I was a kid, but honestly, I don't think I have the kind of disposition required, haha. I'm happy writing fanfics, so it's not like something I regret, I would be quite content if I only ever write fics.

I think I wrote a fairy tale once tho? As a gift for a friend, but I didn't keep any copy, so I don't even remember what it was about, it was a LONG time ago.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

I do hope you meant in general and not another piece from the other WIP I shared, because this is from a different one! Apologies if so.

Phillip Wittebane is seeing a ghost. Without meaning to, a single word escapes from his mouth.

“Caleb…”

The boy quiets down a little and his head turns in his direction, eyes still tightly closed, but his hearing already perfectly accustomed to register sound. His ears don’t twitch like he’s observed in some witches, perhaps because they’re not at all like witches’ ears. No, his ears are round. Human.

It seems like God has finally decided to reward his efforts. Maybe he won’t have to get rid of this one, after all.

I’m dying a little bit because I like this one a lot, but I’m prioritizing other wips for a variety of reasons.

Thanks so much for the questions!!! 💖💖💖

#ask

4 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 2 years

Note

i would like to clarify, did i think Elias was harsh? Yes. did Anthony deserve it and possibly more? Abso-fucking-lutely. Elias had every single right to act the way he did. he could have been harsher even and i wouldn't have had a problem with it bc Elias loves his sister and seeing her in that state, of course it's going to affect him in certain levels. then add the betrayal he felt bc that's his best friend, and the going behind his back and all sorts. BUT that doesn't mean i'm not going to see Anthony's side of it and feel sympathetic for him. (that’s the empath in me probably lmao) like this man is struggling and that's putting it very lightly.

it's probably a me thing but i tend to try and see different perspectives and/or try to see where everyone is coming from. it's just more fun for me that way (which also can be quite frustrating bc when you understand both sides, you tend to get frustrated why character A does not see where character B is coming from hence why i have to remind myself that i know all the facts and they don’t 😂) this is also why i'm just begging for Cherie and Anthony to just TALK lmao.

but also, it's like you said! these characters aren't perfect. they've made mistakes and will continue to do so. there won't be character arcs if that wasn't the case and it would be sooo boring if everything was black & white. so i absolutely cannot wait to see how on earth Anthony redeem himself. like that man is going on a journey to hell and back. TWICE. also with what he said about it’s either Cherie or no one, i’m sure this man is going to do everything and then some. i also would like to see a scene where he’s on his knees in front of Cherie just sobbing and begging for forgiveness bc that would be whew imagine if that’s the first time Cherie actually sees him cry???? my heart </3

okay i'm going to put my devil horns again bc playing devil's advocate is kinda fun lmao: with what happened with Siena, would it be considered as cheating though? which also goes back to a problem they had from the start. They weren’t courting officially. It was all assumption and living in a bubble without actually TALKING about it. so if you think about it, they really had no grounds as to what they were right?? Cherie assumed they were lovers, i have no idea what Anthony thought they were. and then it all blew up before they could even get to that point of communication. my gOOODD were going to go back to the whole communication thing again. sigh. In today’s day and age, it absolutely was cheating. but sometimes we tend to forget, this is a different time period. this is also why it’s a struggle trying to judge everyone in this bc it’s set hundreds of years ago so everything is kinda different.

AGAIN. This does NOT excuse his behaviour. ANTHONY IS STILL A SHITTY IDIOT PREMIUM™️ and he will hold that title for as long as it takes until he grows a braincell or two. He still Fucked Up™️ and it’s his own fault why we’re here in the first place.

also, the duke and duchess story :(( i really hope we will get to see more of that soon and yeah now i remember that. it’s heartbreaking that these two siblings grew up separate so Cherie didn’t get to see what the duke was like and Elias didn’t get to see what his mother was like bc he only gets to see her in short moments.

YOU are amazing!! and I love !!!! talking to you about this and seeing your response and judgement to my thesis ahah so this is just as exciting for me. now i’m going to sit back and read the anons and different opinions like it’s the latest Lady Whistledown.

– TM Anon™️

Oooh please don't worry about it darling, I totally understand what you mean! ❤ And I really love hearing different perspectives and talking about it! ❤❤ It my favorite part of writing a story! ❤

I think Elias will be torn in the following chapters! Like, Anthony has been his best friend for years, and he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that he would betray him this way 💔 He doesn’t even understand Anthony is very confused about his own feelings💔

They definitely need to talk 😂

like that man is going on a journey to hell and back. TWICE. also with what he said about it’s either Cherie or no one, i’m sure this man is going to do everything and then some. YESSSS! Anthony will actually say that he’s in hell, like that will come up 😈 And he will be spiraling out of control 😏

Yesssss, exactly! ❤ Like, in this age it is absolutely unforgivable but the fic is happening in like…1815, and we’re talking about an era where it was seen as “normal” even within marriage sometimes, as heartbreaking as it is😱 Not that Cherie would ever accept that in marriage or in courtship but…😈 Like, if Cecily told about it to her mother for instance, she would have a “so what” reaction which is sad💔

Anthony will have to try so hard to get Cherie to forgive him ❤

We will definitely hear more about the duke and the duchess’s story, and a duke-Cherie convo is coming in the next chapter! ❤

Awwww thank you so much for this! 😱😍❤

5 notes · View notes

peaceisadirtyword · 3 years

Text

Move On V (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! So here it is part 5 of Move On!☺️ a bit long, chaotic, boring, weird... idk, I was a bit angry at myself while writing this, but I hope you like it. Don’t hate me after reading this, there’s no Ivar on this chapter but next one will be intense, I promise. Also sorry because this is way too long, I deleted a entire scene but it’s still long af. Anyway, enjoy!💕 And thanks for reading🥰

Warnings: mentions of alcohol (like a lot), mentions of sex, anxiety, sickness (linked to the previously mentioned alcohol), cheating, the reader is not in a good place, a bit of Hvitserk/Reader and Alfred/Reader. And I think that’s all.

Words: 5314 (gods I’m really sorry)

Move On Masterlist

gif belongs to @therealcalicali (I chose it because it kind of fits this chapter... you’ll see👀)

gif belongs to @ortali

Your phone woke you up. You jumped, startled, and groaned while you considered throwing it out the window. You rolled to your side, ignoring the pair of arms that hugged your waist and took your phone, barely opening your eyes before answering.

"Hello?"

"Y/N" Alfred's voice woke you up immediately, you hummed and rubbed your eyes as you yawned.

"Hi" you sighed "Good morning"

He laughed, and you frowned softly before standing up and opening the curtains, widening your eyes when you saw the sun high in the sky, almost if it was about to go down again.

"Good afternoon, you mean" he chuckled "It's two pm"

"What? Oh my god, no, I did it again" you moaned.

Alfred's laugh made you laugh too, you could almost see him shaking his head and smiling.

"It's okay, you probably needed it" he said softly "Don't worry"

"I'm going to fail every single class" you groaned.

"You won't, I'll give you my notes" he said "Can I go to yours in, let's say, half an hour? I would like to talk to you"

"Sure" you nodded, yawning again "Come"

"Alright, I'll be there" he cleared his throat "See you"

"Bye" you muttered before hanging up.

You had forgotten to set the alarm again, you really needed to stop drinking.

Your eyes went back to the bed, leaving your phone on the bedside table before realizing what you had done and why you had to take someone's arms off of your waist before getting up.

"Oh God, oh no no please no" you groaned rubbing your face as you grabbed your pillow, hitting his bare chest "Hvitserk!"

"What?" he sighed, not even opening his eyes.

You groaned again, laying down on the bed and closing your eyes.

"I can't believe this" you muttered "My life is a joke"

"You were much happier to have me here last night" Hvitserk glared at you, hitting you with the same pillow.

"Hvitserk... Did we have sex?" you turned your head to look at him, biting your lip.

"You seriously don't remember?" he raised an eyebrow.

You took a deep breath. You did remember some things, but preferred to forget it.

"I really need to stop drinking"

"Come on, Y/N" he chuckled "It's fine, we are both adults, adults can have sex without commitment, you did nothing wrong"

"Hvitserk, you're my best friend and my boy... My ex boyfriend's brother" you shook your head.

"And? I'm not going to stop being your friend now, Y/N" he sat on the bed "In fact, we can do this again whenever you want, because I don't remember many things either but the things I do remember are good... I'm joking, don't hit me" he put his hands up with a pout.

You held back a smile. At least, you were happy to see it wasn't awkward.

"We're a mess, Hvitty"

"Maybe" he shrugged "But at least we're having a good time"

"Anyway" you got up, walking around to look for your clothes "Are you hungry?"

Hvitserk didn't answer, raising an eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes as you entered the bathroom.

"What a stupid question" you chuckled "Okay, I'm going to have a shower, you can maybe get dressed and cook something?"

"I would but" he pointed at you, making you look down to realize you were wearing his shirt. You widened your eyes and then closed them, shaking your head slowly "And I ate you out twice last night, I think it's only fair if you cook" he narrowed his eyes.

You covered your face again, sighing.

"Okay, I'll cook, you can look in the wardrobe, there's some clothes in there" you muttered before closing the door.

Leaning down on the sink, you looked at your own reflection on the mirror. Ivar's clothes. He had a lot of clothes in your flat that you didn't really think about after the break up. And now you were giving them to his brother. The brother you slept with.

Your headache intensified and you made an effort to shut it out, blocking any possible thoughts that might enter your mind.

You didn't really want to step out of the shower, but you had no other choice. The last thing you wanted was for Alfred to arrive and see a shirtless Hvitserk on your bed as you had a shower. You left your hair wet and dressed comfortably before stepping out of the bathroom. Hvitserk was still in bed, scrolling down his phone with a bored expression.

"You can have a shower" you cleared your throat, suddenly shy "I'm going to cook something for... Lunch?"

"Nice" he groaned "I'm starving... Hey, are you okay?"

You bit your lip, taking a deep breath.

"I'm just regretting my life decisions" you shrugged "But I do that a lot"

"Y/N" Hvitserk sounded a bit more serious, and this time you looked at him "Stop thinking about it, okay? You needed to unwind a bit, to relax, and to stop thinking about him, it's just sex, it won't change anything, I'm still the same person and so are you"

"I know, Hvitty" you muttered, looking down to the floor with a small pout "But this can't happen again"

"Fine, if you don't want to, we won't do this again, but don't waste your time regretting things you've done and enjoyed" he got up, ruffling your hair before entering the bathroom "It's not worth it"

He had a point. His words replayed on your mind as you went to the kitchen, standing in front of the nearly empty fridge. You were finishing the scrambled eggs and the toasts when the doorbell rang. Quickly, you turned the stove off and walked to the door.

Alfred looked like a real prince. He had a bouquet of flowers on his hands, and his cheeks were reddened. His green eyes looked at you almost shyly, and your mouth parted in surprise.

"I... Hello" you chuckled, nervously.

"Hi" he cleared his throat "I'm sorry if you think this is too much, Torvi nearly forced me to" he glanced at the flowers. White lilies. They matched Alfred's energy so well "But I thought you might like them"

"Yeah" you snapped out of your trance, shaking your head as you stepped back to let him enter the flat "They're beautiful, thanks, I just... Didn't expect it"

"I also have the notes" he frowned softly, making you laugh.

"Okay, thanks, I'll... Put these on water" you took them carefully, admiring them for a moment before leaving them on the table while you looked for a recipient big enough.

"So... Um..." Alfred cleared his throat "Sorry for waking you up this morning"

"Oh, that's okay, I think it was about time I woke up" you giggled "You don't need to apologize"

"And... Did you have any plans for today?" he bit his lip.

"I intended to be a functional adult during the day, but, as you can see, that is not going to happen" you shrugged "And I have one of Torvi's girls night in a few hours"

"She mentioned that" he whispered "I... Would you like to go out sometime one of these days? I'd like to take you out for dinner or lunch, because I don't think you're eating properly" he eyed the toasts and scrambled eggs you abandoned on the pan, making you laugh.

"You're probably right" you nodded "And yeah, sure, that would be nice"

Alfred's eyes lightened up, and his bright smile made you feel some butterflies in your stomach. He really was the sweetest boy in the world.

"Cool" he nodded "Any preference?"

"Not really, I'm fine with a pizza" you shrugged with a smile. It felt good to make plans with someone that wasn't related to your ex boyfriend.

"I'll stick to Italian, then"

"Thank you" you repeated "For the flowers, and the notes, and for checking up on me" you giggled again "You're the best"

Alfred blushed again. His heart beat faster and faster as he thought you looked really cute with damp hair an oversized hoodie and a pair of old sweatpants. You always looked cute, but that day he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"It's nothing, really, I just care about you" he shrugged, looking away in embarrassment. You bit your lip and moved to hug him softly. Alfred froze, not used to close physical contact with women, but then he moved his hands to your waist, hugging you still a bit hesitant.

"Seriously, thank you, for everything" you muttered against his neck, and he nodded, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, he cupped your face, making you look at him with a confused frown before he leant in, pressing his lips against yours.

You widened your eyes in surprise, but kissed him back. He kissed you sweetly, softly, almost like he was afraid to hurt you. Closing your eyes, you let yourself hug his neck and deepen the kiss. He barely moved, with his arm around your neck and his other hand on your face, caressing your cheek softly with his thumb.

Alfred sighed against your lips, and just when you were about to start running your fingers through his hair, the floor of the kitchen creaked, startling the both of you. Hvitserk stood a few meters from you, with a towel on his hands and his eyebrows raised. His lips were starting to curve on a smirk.

"Hello"

"Oh my god, Hvitserk" you muttered, covering your face.

"I... Didn't know you weren't alone" Alfred frowned while glaring at Hvitserk, whose attention had been diverted to the food on the counter.

"Yeah, sorry, Hvitserk spent the night and... I probably should have mentioned that" you sighed.

"No, it's okay, don't apologize" he cleared his throat and tried to smile, even thought it looked more like a grimace "I should leave, I just wanted to..." he didn't finish the phrase nor looked at you.

"Okay" you muttered, walking behind him as he approached the door "Thank you again"

"It was nothing" he finally looked at you with a small smile "Take care, Y/N, see you"

He left before you could even open your mouth, and you sighed again, bumping your head softly against the door.

"You know, when I said you should move on I didn't mean 'fuck every single person you know in less than 24 hours'" Hvitserk laughed with his mouth full, making you roll your eyes.

"I don't know what happened" you closed the door, walking back to the kitchen and frowning when you realized Hvitserk was eating all the food.

"This time you can't blame the alcohol" he laughed "He brought you flowers, at least he worked for it"

You caressed the lilies absentmindedly, your heart breaking softly at the thought of Alfred thinking you had used him.

"He kissed me" you muttered.

"I'd be surprised if he didn't" Hvitserk winked at you "The poor boy has been in love with you for years"

It took you a few seconds to process his words.

"Excuse me?"

He smiled, yawning as he opened the fridge again.

"Everyone knows it, Y/N, even my brother" he shrugged "Why do you think Ivar couldn't stand him? He was jealous, it didn't help that you have to be so nice with everyone"

Ivar. Fuck, you were thinking about him again. You cursed his name a few times and suddenly missed him more than ever. This was his fault. He was the one that kept you sane. His absence made you go crazy.

"So you're saying Alfred likes me and everyone knew it and no one told me?"

"I'm sure someone did, but the fact that you're oblivious to absolutely everything doesn't help, it's a bit obvious" he raised an eyebrow "He kissed you, I think that's a pretty good confirmation"

You sighed, letting yourself fall on the couch covering your face with your arm. You needed some alcohol to cope with this.

_________________________________________________

"So you slept with Hvitserk and then kissed Alfred? I'm proud of you" Thora giggled, laying on your bed as you walked around the room, trying on different clothes after she appeared on your door looking like a model. You felt betrayed, as you had made her promise you both would wear jeans and maybe a cute top when you called to invite her to Torvi's girls' night. You needed moral support.

"I'm losing my mind, Thora" you sighed, sitting down next to her as you drank the rest of your glass of wine. You were already dizzy.

"Why? You're single, you should have done this before" she shrugged "I bet Ivar wasn't feeling bad when he fucked Freydis for the first time after leaving you"

You winced at that. It was a thought that had crossed your mind more than once, did he miss you at all? Did those last four years mean something to him? How much time had taken him to start acting like a couple with Freydis?

"Sorry, was I too harsh?" Thora bit her lip, looking at you with a worried gaze.

"It's okay" you shook your head. The sooner you realized Ivar was going on with his life and not paying a single thought to you, the better "It's just... I slept with his brother, my best friend" you groaned "And then I kissed Alfred"

"Stop thinking about it, Y/N" she rolled her eyes "You did what you did, you enjoyed it, what's the point of overthinking it? Just wear the tight dress and the heels, do your make up and let's go partying, you need more than a glass of wine"

You looked at the now empty glass, pouting.

"Actually, it's the third glass of wine"

She widened her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay, then maybe just drink a couple of beers after this"

You nodded, standing up to put the dress on.

"I keep saying you and Hvitserk would make a really good couple" you smiled softly.

"The guy you had sex with?"

Narrowing your eyes, you turned around to glare at her again.

"It was friendly sex"

"But was it good, at least?" Thora giggled.

You laughed, shaking your head.

"I barely remember but... Yeah, it was good" you shrugged "Hvitserk is probably the most experienced one of his brothers"

"Better than...?"

Your smile faded as you looked at yourself in the mirror. No, no one would ever been better than Ivar. Not to you.

_______________________________________

Alfred didn't answer your messages. You had sent him five texts, deciding to stop before you crossed the line of the actual harassment. He hadn't replied, which was strange because he always replied almost immediately. He was definitely mad at you, and now you felt like the worst person ever.

"Stop looking at your phone" Thora rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed "We're here to have a good time, aren't we?" she pointed at the club Torvi had chosen as you stood just next to the door.

"I suppose so..."

"I know that the word fun hasn't been on your vocabulary lately, but tonight just try to forget about your ex, the guy that likes you and about the friend you slept with last night"

You nodded. She was right. No drama that night, just relax and alcohol. You needed a shot, though.

"You're right, yeah, I'm going to..." after checking your notifications for the last time, you turned your phone off, burying it inside your purse and smiling proudly at Thora, who sighed and hugged you softly.

"Torvi said they were arriving" you informed "So they should be here..." you looked around, scanning the street until you saw her, waving at you excitedly as she approached with the rest of the group "Soon" you muttered as you saw her walking next to Torvi and a girl with black hair. Fuck, no.

Freydis shot you a wide smile. They reached you before you could react and, maybe, run away.

"Hi!" Torvi hugged you excitedly "How are you? Sorry we're a bit late"

"That's okay" you cleared your throat "Um... This is Thora" you ignored the lump that appeared on your throat.

"Hello! It's nice to meet you" Torvi smiled "I'm Torvi, these are Gunhild, Blaeja and Freydis... Y/N, you don't know Blaeja, do you?"

Thora did widen her eyes at the mention of Freydis' name, and eyed you worryingly as she greeted everyone. You could barely speak. Your heart raced at the sight of her and it didn't help that she kept staring at you with a smile.

"It's so good to see you" Freydis linked her arm with yours, making you tense up almost immediately "We never had the chance to catch up!"

You could feel everyone's eyes on you, nearly waiting for you to start crying. Torvi bit her lip and looked at you worryingly, while Thora just glared at Freydis. You wanted nothing more than push her away and run, feeling as trapped as you had felt when you ran into them at the cafeteria. That last time you could barely speak and ran to the toilet to calm yourself down, but this time...

"I'm fine" you mimicked her wide smile "Better than I ever was"

Freydis looked surprised, maybe she thought you'd be intimidated by her. But she looked even happier now.

"I'm happy to hear that!" she sounded genuine, and this time you were the one surprised "I always tell Ivar we should invite you and Alfred to have dinner or maybe have a drink, but I think he doesn't like your boyfriend very much... He is your boyfriend, right?" she widened her eyes, acting like a girl that just had a reunion with her best friend from high school.

"Um... Alfred and I are just friends" you raised an eyebrow.

"Oh" she pouted "A shame, the two of you look perfect together"

"I know, right?" Torvi joined as she pushed the two of you into the club, winking at the doorman when he lifted the rope so you could pass "I always tell them, they look really cute together" she looked relived that you hadn't cried yet, and she offered you a sympathetic smile "And Y/N deserves a guy like Alfred, he even skips work to see her, and we're talking about a guy that enters the office at six am and leaves at twelve even if he's the boss" she giggled.

You cleared your throat, finding it awkward to be talking about this with your ex's girlfriend. Excusing yourself, you approached Thora again. She had a frown on her face and narrowed her eyes at Freydis.

"What's this about?" she whispered as you left your coats on the wardrobe "What is she doing here?"

"I have no idea" you sighed "I need three drinks and two shots"

"I'll buy them for you" she patted your shoulder with a sad smile. You were more convinced than ever that your life was a joke, and whoever controlled your fate was having a blast doing so.

_____________________________________________

Turns out that the drinks and the shots didn't help. Instead, they left you a bit shaky, dizzy and with a headache. The loud music and the blinding lights weren't helping either. You'd give your life to go back home and get into bed again to sleep for days.

But, if you were going to put up with a beautiful, loud and nice Freydis, you needed another drink. You stumbled to the bar, followed by Torvi, who looked a bit wary when you announced your intentions. Thora had gotten on with Gunnhild pretty well, and Blaeja and Freydis looked like best friends.

"I didn't know she was coming" she reassured you as soon as you were alone "Blaeja invited her and... I'm really sorry"

"It's fine" you shook your head "I'll get over it"

Torvi nodded slowly.

"Did Alfred visit you this morning?" her smile faltered when you got your drink and drank half of it at once.

"Yeah" you looked away, nervously "He brought me his notes and... Lilies"

Torvi looked delighted.

"And... Are you going to see him soon?" her big eyes scrutinized your face.

"Maybe" you shrugged. For a moment, you nearly told her what had happened that morning, but you didn't really want to talk about it. Not drunk, when you could accidentally say that you had sex with Hvitserk when you were too drunk and thinking about Ivar, and that then you had kissed Alfred in the kitchen as Hvitserk finished his shower. "I'll call him"

She looked happy with that answer, and turned around to order her own drink. You looked away, to the crowd of people singing and dancing happily. Not so long ago, you had been one of them. Your eyes found Freydis and you felt like crying again. She looked happy, and stunning, and her eyes were lightened up. Did you look like that when you were with Ivar? Probably. He had his own way of loving, and he made you feel so unique and special even when you weren't in the same room as him.

For a moment, you understood her. Ivar had that mysterious thing, maybe it was his intense eyes, his stare, his smile or his bad mood, but you knew you were going to fall hard as soon as you met him. He was beautiful, and you knew it was impossible to resist him, you knew it because you indeed fell hard, and continued falling for years, until you were sure you wouldn't be able to get up again. Maybe she had felt that too. Maybe she fell in love with him and just fought harder than you. You couldn't blame her, not even if every single part of your body wanted to demonize her and make her guilty, in the end it was Ivar who chose her.

"Are you coming?" Torvi had gotten her drink, and now was walking back to the dance floor.

"I'm going to stay here for a couple of minutes, I'll go later" you smiled at her. She stared at you for a couple of seconds, but nodded and left. Your throat burned and you felt like crying again. The pressure on your chest intensified and your ears started ringing. Taking a deep breath, you got up from your seat and stumbled, leaning into the dark wall until you reached the toilet.

Sighing in relief when you realized it was empty, you leant into the sink, trying to control your breath as your entire body shook. It was nearly impossible to breath, and the room was spinning around you. You were regretting every single drop of alcohol you drank that night when you moved to the toilet, closing the stall door behind you before kneeling to throw up.

Luckily, no one else entered. Your throat burned and you were already sleepy when you finished, sitting down to lean your head onto the wall, regretting every single decision you had taken in the past twenty four hours.

In fact, you even regretted the moment that you saw Ivar Lothbrok for the first time.

Your makeup was nearly ruined, and you looked like you just came out of a horror movie. After trying to fix it a bit, you took your small purse and went out of the toilet. Just when you were opening the door, you heard a giggle to your right, which startled and made you frown at the same time. You really didn't want to see anyone in that moment.

The emergency exit was the only thing to your right, and you got a glimpse of a familiar shade of blonde hair leaving just before the door shut. You frowned, your head hurt and your legs were weak, you wanted nothing more than go home, wash your teeth, have a quick shower and sleep for the entire weekend. But you were curious now. Was that...?

Looking around to see if anyone saw you, you walked to the door slowly, your head pumping at the rhythm of the loud music. You opened it just a bit, enough to poke your head out and look around. It led to an alley, full of trash bins and a single streetlight, but enough to differentiate the two people that were making out passionately a few meters from you. You raised an eyebrow and were about to leave when the guy moved a bit. He was tall, but when he moved, the light hit the girl squeezed between him and the brick wall, and you froze.

Freydis closed her eyes and tilted his head as he kissed her neck with a smile on her lips. Then he kissed her again. You walked back slowly, closing the door softly to avoid making any noise, but as soon as you were back on the hallway, you nearly ran to the entrance, reaching the dance floor and crossing it as fast as your shaky legs allowed you.

"Y/N!"

Thora grabbed your arm, making you jump. She frowned as soon as she saw your face.

"What happened? Where were you? You look like you've seen a ghost"

You shook your head, rubbing your face.

"I was in the toilet, I..." you sighed when the rest of the girls approached you "I'm not feeling well, I should go home" you forced a smile.

"Hey, are you okay?" Torvi looked genuinely worried "We can go with you..."

"No, no, please just stay and... Have fun" you shrugged "Don't mind me"

"I'm going with you" Thora nodded, glaring at you when you tried to argue "I'm not letting you leave all alone while drunk, Y/N, so shut up and go take your coat"

Sighing in defeat, you followed her to the wardrobe. Torvi kept walking behind you, but she couldn't reach you until you stopped.

"Hey, Y/N, if this is about Freydis being here, I swear..."

"It's not" you interrupted her, a bit more rudely than you intended "It has nothing to do with her" you lied "I'm just tired, I don't feel well and I think I should go home, that's all" you softened your tone and tried to smile.

She nodded slowly, but kept looking at you as you took your coat, putting it on before walking outside of the club without waiting for Thora. The noise was driving you crazy.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" Torvi followed you outside. You were starting to lose your patience "I can call Alfred and tell him to go to yours..."

"I don't think Alfred wants to see me now" you snapped "He won't answer my messages, he doesn't want to see me, I fucked up" you nearly yelled, your eyes filled with tears and you felt Thora's hand on your arm, caressing it softly.

"What are you talking about?" she looked surprised "I don't..."

"Hvitserk spent the night" you nearly sobbed "Alfred came and he was there, so he left, and now he won't reply to me"

"Hvitserk?" Torvi frowned "What do you mean he spent the night? I thought Alfred and you..."

"We're not dating!" you raised your voice involuntarily. The tears started falling down your cheeks and some of the people that walked down the street looked at you. You must have looked like a mad woman... At least, that's how you felt "Alfred is my friend, and I never knew he intended to be more than that until this morning, when he brought me flowers and kissed me! I was drunk and I slept with Hvitserk, and what about it? I'm single, my boyfriend left me for someone else, I can have sex with whoever I want!"

Torvi glared at you. You felt kind of bad for yelling at her. It wasn't her fault and you were just venting, but it felt so good to say it...

"Yes, you can do whatever you want, but the fact that you're hurt doesn't mean you can hurt someone else too" she pressed her lips together "Alfred really likes you, so please don't break his heart"

You raised an eyebrow. You could feel the anger radiating off of you, and Thora might have felt it too because she gripped your arm more tightly.

"I didn't know" you were exasperated "I didn't know he liked me, I never wanted to hurt anyone, Torvi, but you can go and think I'm the worst person in the world if you want to" you glared at her "You know?You could have had this same conversation with Ivar, when he literally flirted with someone else in front of me and in front of everyone, but you chose to ignore it, and now I'm the bad one for hurting Alfred when we're just friends" you rolled your eyes. Thora called your name softly, pushing you away from Torvi "Anyway, have fun" you nearly spat before turning around to leave.

____________________________________

Thora left the warm cup of tea on the table in front of you. You dried the tears with the back of your hand. Dressed on your pajamas and freshly showered you did feel a bit better. At least you weren't dizzy and your head didn't hurt that much anymore. The pressure on your chest was still there, but it was easier to ignore.

"Hey" your friend caressed your hair softly "Come on, drink it and we'll go to bed, stop thinking"

You stared at the cup for a couple of minutes, until you finally grabbed it, taking a sip. The warm liquid relaxed you and calmed you down a bit, and you closed your eyes to hold onto that feeling.

"Y/N, you can't keep doing this to yourself" Thora whispered "You have to move on, but drinking and torturing yourself like this isn't the solution"

"Hvitserk said the same" you whined "I acted like a real asshole, didn't I?"

"Well, you were right" she smiled "It's not your fault, you were drunk and nervous and you just exploded. Seeing Freydis was too much, maybe"

Freydis. Fuck, you had forgotten about her and the guy she was kissing on that alley. Suddenly, you felt like throwing up again.

You took the purse you had left on the table, grabbing your phone and turning it on. You groaned when seeing the huge amount of messages and missed calls you had. Alfred replied. And he called you too.

I'm really sorry, I was working and my phone died

I'm not mad at you, I just wasn't expecting Hvitserk to be there again

And the most recent one made you bit your lip.

Torvi called me and told me what happened, are you okay? Do you need anything? Please call me back, I think we need to talk

Torvi and Gunnhild had also called you. You felt even worse when you read Torvi's texts. She apologized and asked you to call as soon as you could.

Hvitserk's made you smile. Have fun tonight, but don't do anything I wouldn't do. You definitely fell in love with the wrong Lothbrok.

And then you saw it. With everything that had happened, you had forgotten about the text you sent to Ivar, and never looked at his reply. Hell, you thought he wouldn't even reply.

Yeah, thanks.

For some reason, it made you angry. He broke your heart, he left you and showed he didn't care about you in any way. And when you heard he was going through a rough time, you still reached out to him, just to receive that answer, as if you were the one that did things wrong.

Your finger hesitated just before you pressed the call icon. Thora raised an eyebrow and watched as you locked the phone and left it on the table, sighing in annoyance.

"I think I'm going to sleep"

_______________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @therealcalicali @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallydelys @hellogabysblog @winchesterwife27 @hecohansen31 @youbloodymadgenius @xinyourdreamsx @funmadnessandbadassvikings @eteramfools @tgrrose @flokidottirsstuff @lovessce @tootie-fruity @didiintheblog @alexhandersenx @belovedcherry @fantasydevil2002 @xceafh @astrape-the-weatherwitch @destynelseclipsa @poisonous00 @littlebear423 @justbloodlydreaming @xbellaxcarolinax @soleil-dor @geekydane-post @katarokkar11 @crackhead1-800 @momowhoo @pedrolorian @flokisdaughter @crazybunnyladysworld @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @jungkxxkk

okay I think I have everyone but if I don’t please tell me :( Tumblr won’t send me notifications💔

I know Ivar wasn’t on this chapter! but you'll have plenty of Ivar on the next, I swear!🥰

#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #vikings #vikings imagine #modern ivar #modern hvitserk #modern vikings

229 notes · View notes

barnesand · 3 years

Text

the scent of old stories [ i ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! Author’s note: I’ve been down, and I just wanted to write something that made me happy. I don’t know if this is technically fluff, but it’s the start of something new and Alpine is in it. Word Count: 2,551 Words (I'm a damn monster) chapter two can be found here: x

You’ve stumbled upon it during your early morning commute; it was a blur in your periphery the first time, your thoughts steadfast on the sweltering heat of your coffee cup, and it wasn’t until you successfully attuned yourself to your new schedule that you stole a proper glance at it. It was wedged between a coffee shop and insurance agency—two stories at least with gold flourishes and filigree painted at the edges of the window. Through that window you saw the aisles and stacks of books, all old and you gave yourself that short perusal to imagine the alluring scent of old stories. It was during that time that you decided you would take your day off to go inside; you had to.

You haven’t mastered the ability to resist a bookstore, especially one with old books in desperate need of a new bookshelf. Luckily, you had a couple of spots that have yet to be filled. And the Second Hand seemed to be the perfect place to lose a couple of hours scouring the stacks looking for some new companions.

Quick to remember the time that it closed, you tried your best to ignore the glee that settled into the pit of your stomach. How long have you lived in Brooklyn? Not long, and truthfully, you haven’t quite found the thing that made you love it. There were small things that you enjoyed, but you still managed to miss your hometown. You missed your favorite hangouts, the secrets about your home that only you knew. You didn’t have those things in Brooklyn, yet. All you knew was your job, and the streets you took to get there. Perhaps, the Second Hand could be your thing? There would be a seat that you always sat in, and an aisle that you visited so often you memorized all the books that were in it. You could be on a first-name basis with the employees and visit so often that you’d memorize their coffee orders.

Yes, you needed a place to cement your adoration for your new home.

Your day off finally came and dressed in your coziest turtleneck and jeans you followed your familiar work commute until you reached the Second Hand. There was something about the sing-song chime of the bell above a door that made you realize you were going to have a good time. And, just as you suspected, the scent of old stories filled your lungs. You weren’t a big fan of bookstores that looked clean and meticulously organized. You preferred a certain level of chaos—and the Second Hand provided that slight chaos. There were certain aisles thinner than most, due to an overflow of old books that have yet to find a place on the shelves. You could hear the soft mewl of a cat most likely prowling through the stacks above on the second store, and the small piles of books seemed to be on every step of the staircase. You made no effort to hide the elated smile that slid across your features. You clutched tightly to your coffee, making your way towards the staircase.

Indeed, that phantom cat you heard before—snow white and thick around the middle—was lurking on the second story. It leaned against the railing, eyes closed, and you could hear them purring from where you stood at the top. You made a note to ask the shop-keep (wherever they may be), if they had a name and if it was the kind of cat that welcomed a stranger petting them.

Despite being clear signs for each section, you instead made the decision to walk up and down each aisle without a single inclination of what you were looking for. Your fingers lingered over the spines, searching for the ones with the deepest lines. You preferred the ones that made you worry—the ones in which you knew you would have to restore the spines to a certain extent. Because, to you, that meant that it was someone’s favorite. It made you curious, made you wonder what about the story made someone read it over and over and over until the spine was only being held together by sheer faith.

The white cat began to follow you around, weaving between your legs when you stood still. You had to stifle a giggle once or twice when you moved and nearly stumbled over the cat—that was your mistake, you should have known the direction in which the cat was going—when they moved one way and you went the other. By the time you reached the top of the staircase again, prepared to make your descent to the stacks below, you’ve culminated several books.

You meandered halfway down the stairs before looking up, expecting the cat to follow. You tried to hide the pout, not wanting the cat to think you enjoyed your time together or anything.

You reached the bottom step, already scrutinizing over the selection you’ve made so far. Honestly, you should’ve come into the bookstore with at least a budget in mind. Knowing that you didn’t set a hard spending limit was your biggest trouble. Your second was that you hadn’t even looked down the aisles on the first floor, which meant that your stack would get heavier.

You stood on the last step, already looking at the spines—maybe you didn’t need another copy of Anna Karenina. You weren’t much of a Western fanatic, but the premise of it intrigued you and that felt like a good enough reason to keep it. No… no, you’d need a second opinion about it. You looked up to find the front counter mostly abandoned. Somewhere in the stacks you’d probably find an employee (or, if anything else, another customer). Moving towards the counter, you aimed to set your stack of books on the edge of it so that you could retrieve them later.

From the opposite end of the room, you heard a commotion through a cracked door. You stilled, waiting for the person to emerge.

And—fuck. You didn’t expect the person that emerged to look so good. Truthfully, you didn’t quite know which part of him you enjoyed looking at the most. Was it how he nearly filled the doorway with this wide shoulders? Was it how crystalline, even from where you stood, his blue eyes were? No—no, it had to be the stubbled that dusted his sharp jaw, and that dark coif of hair that made your fingertips tingle at the very idea of running through fingers through it? It could be the way his teeth caught his bottom lip for just a second, his brows furrowing apologetically at the sound from earlier, before his mouth curled into a smile.

All the above. That was your answer—all of it.

“Hi,” he said.

“Anna Karenina,” you blurted. You didn’t want to think about the shade of red you suddenly turned, or how dry your throat suddenly became. You sputtered; words unintelligible before you slammed your hand on your stack of books. “I, uh—hi!”

“Hi,” he echoed, only that time it was followed by a short laugh.

He moved toward the counter, and you quickly made note of how tight his shirt was around his shoulders—you also noticed the name of the store embroidered on the pocket of it—and you cleared your throat. He settled behind the counter, that smile of his still fastened onto his face. He was so… pretty, it almost started to hurt. He sat on a stool, placing his elbows onto the countertop and leaning in.

You cleared your throat again, remembering why you placed your books on the counter in the first place. “I’m trying to decide if I need another copy of Anna Karenina. You know I, uh, made the poor choice of going shopping while hungry.”

You sighed. You swore you weren’t always a dork—in fact, you’d like to think of yourself as the female Casanova if you put your mind to it. But there was something about the tilt of his head when he looked at you, the way his smile shifted into a smirk. He reached for the books you’d chosen, and you marveled at the size of his hands with a big gulp. He could see it—you just knew he could see how flustered you were.

“I think my first question to ask is how many times have you read your current copy? I mean, if you’ve only read it once, then what are the odds of you reading this one?” He went through the stack one-by-one, eyeing the spine before nodding to himself. You wish you knew what he was thinking. “I’m also inclined to say, you know, all of them.”

“That’s not a good sign for my back account.”

He looked at you, then, and you felt a pang—not in your heart, but in your gut. The kind of pang that caused chill to climb your spine and told that, oh, you want this man to do awful things to you. Which wasn’t something you felt often. He pressed a hand on top of your stack of books once he was finished and you tried not to think about the size of it. His blue eyes stared you down, and you watched as that smirk of his turned impish almost.

“I think I have a discount code here somewhere,” he mused, reaching into a drawer with his other arm.

You noticed it then, sleek black metal with gold embellishments. The sophistication of the design enamored you, and you couldn’t quite peel your eyes away from the way it moved—which was no different than how you couldn’t peel your eyes away from every single part of him. You swallowed, blinking away the haze before returning your attention back to the conversation.

“I would be eternally grateful,” you answered him.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” he started to make casual conversation while he filtered through some papers. He paused to look at you, and his blue eyes looked just a little brighter when he did. “I’m Bucky.”

“Reader,” you greeted him. “And, yeah, I haven’t been in here until today. I’m new to town, so—”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Where ya from?”

You told Bucky where you’d come from, how you moved to Brooklyn for work shortly after grad school. For a moment, you started to wonder if he was taking his time looking for that discount, but each time he asked you more about your time in Brooklyn so far, and precisely what your job entailed, you didn’t mind him procrastinating.

“I mean,” you continued. “I’ve done the tourist-y stuff. The bridge. Coney Island. I just haven’t found the little local things that make it feel like home to me. It’s why I dropped in.”

You felt like you should keep that bit to yourself—like you were giving him way too much. For all you knew, he could have been making small talk for the sake of getting a sale. He probably didn’t want to know about your anxieties about living in a new city. But when Bucky looked at you, and listened, you thought you could spill everything. And it made that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach grow hotter. He finally found what he was looking for, and your smile sank for a moment. The conversation would be over—you could, of course, return. But that meant making another dent in your bank account, and you couldn’t risk hemorrhaging funs all for the sake of looking at his crystalline blue eyes.

“This’ll take about twenty percent off your purchase today, but,” he lifted himself from the stool, leaning in. He tilted his head, in a sort of look at me way and you did precisely that. “I will give you Anna Karenina.”

“Ooh,” you enjoyed the sound of that. “But your boss—”

“I am the boss. And I’m giving this to you on one condition.” He drew in a deep breath, releasing it with a smirk. “Next time you come in; I’d like to give you an incredibly detailed list of things to do. I mean—every hole in the wall joint I can think of. And you gotta do ‘em.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Every single one?”

“Every single one.”

“I don’t think I have that kind of time—”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to find time. Because it’ll be a long damn list, Reader.”

He winked at you, and you nearly melted. As he started to ring up your purchase, slipping that new copy of Tolstoy into your bag, you’d reached the deepest shade of red. Again, sometimes you could be a Casanova. You could be flirty back—but you really couldn’t find it in you. All you could muster was the personality of a smitten girl and that was what Bucky would be receiving until you found your other self. He was inviting you to come back—he was practically bribing you to come back. Yes, it was because he was a local and wanted to provide you with the hidden secrets of Brooklyn, but he wanted you to come back so he could say it.

You blinked. “How would you know I did each one on your list? Bucky, I could tell you I did everything. Are you gonna quiz me? Should I take notes?” You raised your eyebrows, leaning against the counter.

You felt the white cat again, their purr vibrating softly against your jean-covered calf. You looked down with a small smile, knowing that the cat couldn’t resist you. When you looked up you found Bucky peering over the counter down at the cat.

“That’s Alpine,” he told you, and you were glad in that moment because you were so close to giving Alpine another name. “And—I guess… I guess I’d have to be there to make sure. For certain ones specifically—I’ll arrange it from solo to co-op missions just in case.”

“I-I, yeah.” You sputtered along, grinning from ear-to-ear almost. “You might.”

You don’t remember much about the transaction—but you quickly shoved your card and the receipt into your purse before you were tempted to look at the price. When Bucky handed the bag of books to you, his pointer finger brushed against your knuckles and your knees nearly buckled. You sighed.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you said, nervously. “For the discount. And for the free book.”

He flashed another smile. “You’re welcome, Reader. Don’t forget the deal.”

“I will not.” Because you were sure he just asked you out—you were certain that he had. You wished he were asking you out. You’d understand if he meant in an utterly innocent way; he wanted you to enjoy Brooklyn the way he did, and you were okay with that. But, God, you wanted it to be because he wanted to ask you out.

The chime of the bell announced your exit, and you took your time strolling past the window. You were so glad that the Second Hand had been in your periphery that day. You were gleeful at the fact that, somehow, you’d found a place to love in Brooklyn.

Bucky and the Second Hand—and Alpine—had become your thing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #james buchanan barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #( bucky barnes. )#( fanfiction. )#Alpine uses they/them pronouns cause i don't know their gender #bucky don't flirt with customers #lemme speak to your manager #bookshop au

144 notes · View notes

quaranmine · 2 years

Note

Last time I did the "write every day for x number of words" thing was nanowrimo two years ago. I'd never made it past 10k before, but that time I made it to about 36k before I failed. I've been so nervous to start anything long again because of how hard I hit the wall last time. Do you have any advice for jumping back in?

Firstly--congrats on making it to 36k, that's amazing! My previous record on a piece of fiction was only 7k, now this that I'm working on is probably around 19k. So I'm already out of my element there, trying to wrangle the plot of something much longer than I've ever worked with. I also think that pacing yourself on length may help, since in my experience nanowrimo tends to be pretty intense, which is why I set my word count goal pretty low at 250 because I know if I did it much higher I would just get intimidated.

But I know what you mean, because I literally stopped writing for FIVE YEARS after that 7k piece. Mostly due to life events, but also because I just didn't think I could write very well. 95% of my ideas failed and only every got read by my friends.

I wish I had better advice but I think...I think you just have to do it. The mcyt fandom helped me, because it sparked enough creativity for me to start having fic ideas again. But I didn't think I could write them, because I wasn't a writer anymore.

But one night I just sat down and tried. And that fic failed; I probably wrote maybe 1-2k words over two sessions and then abandoned it. (It was a Disc War Finale AU with Tommy and Tubbo, btw.) But I enjoyed some of what I came up with, so I tried again with a new idea.

That fic failed too. I wrote an outline, and then a single scene, and scrapped it. It was only when I wrote a few short oneshots for hermitcraft S8 that I was able to post that I started getting back into it. Then with Last Life, I challenged myself twice to write and post a one shot in between sessions so I worked on a time crunch. Then I wrote an empires fic and branched a bit beyond just hermits. All of these are relatively short, but it just got me back in the mindset of coming up with ideas and writing them down.

It's worth mentioning that there was another big multi-chaptered action-type failed fic in here. I don't even wanna CALL it failed, since I spent soooooo many hours of my commute planning it, so maybe we'll say indefinite hiatus. It's painful to me that I hit a wall on it before I could even finish chapter two. There's nothing I can do about that though except shelve it and maybe try again later. Actually--there was two bigger failed fics, I just remembered another shelved multichapter fic that i wrote one (1) scene in the middle of and immediately scrapped it. I still wanna use that scene lol

So I guess my advice is just...you're gonna fail again. Probably several times. But if you keep trying, I know you can do it. It's more of a numbers game than anything, like if you throw enough things at a wall then maybe something will stick. it does take a certain amount of tenacity though, so I guess like...you just have to want it more than feel scared of failing. Don't view failure as a reflection of you, either, just view it as part of the process and get back in with something else.

TLDR: start smaller with shorter things, don't be afraid to scrap things or fail, and just keep trying. let spite fuel u, prove urself wrong

#quara asks #longer than i expected to write this reply? i hope it helps a little

11 notes · View notes

whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 17: Blackout

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Oh no, you made things complicated. Lol. I'm having more fun writing Kung Lao than should be allowed. Hopefully you guys enjoy! And yes, I know this is tropey but I also don't care LOL, it's a fun trope.

Part 16 Part 18 Chapter Index

The hotel was surprisingly crowded. You weren’t sure what you’d expected but you hadn’t expected it to be bustling with tourists. There was a festival happening, you should have expected this. A bit outdated, the hotel was still clean and inviting. A welcome reprieve from the stone walls of Raiden’s Temple. You’d arrived early and still had to wait in line. Raiden had ‘transported’ you there which had been a wild experience in and of itself. You’d walked into a bolt of lightning and had come out in a quiet alley unseen.

It had been so long since you’d walked amongst the average civilian that it felt straight up bizarre to be walking along the streets of the modest city, especially in your hanfu. It was all you’d had, after all. No one looked at you twice other than to greet you politely. Most of the other folks staying at the hotel for the festival were couples on a romantic getaway which had made it instantly weird to be waiting in line with Kung Lao to check into your respective rooms.

Thankfully, the line moved quickly and once you’d checked in, you dropped off the few belongings you’d brought with you. The room was tiny with a single bed, a desk taking up nearly the rest of the room. Atop the desk was a television and beneath that was an old, ancient mini fridge. It would do well enough. This was the most technology you’d seen in weeks. Afterwards, you’d found Kung Lao and told him that you would meet him in an hour. You’d made note of a clothing store down the road and wanted to see if there was anything worth buying.

He, of course, decided to join you. No one trusted you alone anymore. He didn’t say it like that, but you knew that Raiden had told both him and Liu to keep an eye on you. You felt like a ticking time bomb.

Once at the shop you were disappointed to find that it sold mostly yukatas and kimonos. You supposed it was better than the flowy hanfu. At least you could pick out something that would be your own rather than something that had been handed to you.

Boy, you missed the internet.

You picked out a few pieces that you could work with a bit easier. Most of the hanfu were dresses or long flowy robes. Here you’d been able to find a few women’s kimonos that had hakama pants as an option. You had never been so excited to see pants in your life. You didn’t need the whole kimono, just the pants. Some constricted around the ankles while others were left open. You grabbed both and were extremely pleased.

“Sometimes, you’re a very simple woman.” Kung Lao had patted you on the back when you’d showed him the pants in excitement. You had to agree. In that moment you were very simple. Pants had brought you joy. You’d wandered away from him after that to find a few tops, belts, and jackets. Thankfully, you’d had your wallet on you when this had all begun so you had some money on you. In Raiden’s Temple, money hadn’t been necessary, so you were happy to spend it on the few things you did need.

They weren’t jeans and a t-shirt or even cute dresses, but it felt like a step in the right direction toward feeling like yourself again. You hadn’t realized how much it had bothered you until then.

Kung Lao had purchased just enough for the day in flattering red and black. That seemed to be his aesthetic though you could picture him in blues too for some reason. Then you made your way back to the hotel and to your rooms on the top floor. You had gotten rooms next to each other. You went to get changed and were happy with what you saw even in the half mirror on the desk. You stood on the bed to get a better look. Black hakama pants and a grayish-lavender and black top with a white sash tied around your middle. You then pulled your hair back in a ponytail and admired yourself in the mirror. Even though your hair was a mess you looked much more like yourself.

Your white roots had grown out a couple of inches now. It didn’t look bad, but it definitely didn’t look like it was on purpose either.

Oh well! You jumped off the bed and then left the room to find Kung Lao waiting for you, leaned against the wall next to your door. He had one foot propped against the wall, arms folded across his chest, hat obscuring his face as it often did. The clothing he’d bought wasn’t too terribly different from what he usually wore with the notable exception that he had sleeves which was truly a shame. He tilted his head up just enough to greet you before stepping away from the wall. You hadn’t left him waiting that long and yet he acted as though he’d been there for ages.

You noticed the jade ring from his usual outfit was woven into his outfit with the sash around his waist laced through it. It was kind of sweet that he always seemed to have it on him.

“Is that significant in some way? Special?” You asked, gesturing to the ring. He looked down at the ring in surprise and then nodded down the hall. You walked slowly through the hotel toward the stairwell.

“It’s a relic from my ancestor, the Great Kung Lao.”

“Oh, wow. About that, though… I’ve heard people mention him, but I had never heard the name before you. I know that he’s of some importance which has made you important…”

“I am incredibly important, thank you.”

“Yes, very. Keep talking.”

“He was the first champion of Mortal Kombat who had come from the Shaolin Order of Light. He defeated Shang Tsung and won the tournament.” Kung Lao seemed as though he had told this story a hundred times but was still proud to tell it. It was oddly sweet. “He was champion of Earthrealm for fifty years before the tournament was corrupted and he was killed. Even so, he is held in great reverence. He was a remarkable warrior.”

“Is that why you have a dragon mark?”

“Yes, that is why I have the mark. It’s also why I was sent away so young. I’d already been training long before I’d met you. When I left it was because it was time for me to go live at the temple.”

You stopped walking before the stairs and he stopped just in front of you and turned to face you. “Then why were you so bad when we would pretend to fight?”

“I held back. I wanted you to have fun too. Besides, it felt nice to be normal back then.” He laughed and you caught up to him and started down the stairs. “I was thinking that we should come up with a story as to why we’re here.”

“Should we?”

“Obviously. We need a reason to be here.”

“Other than the reason we actually have?”

“And when a bunch of strangers ask you why we’re here, are you going to tell them the real reason we’re here?”

“Point taken.”

“We need a cover.”

“Do we really though? I don’t remember ever having to justify my actions that intensely to strangers before. We can just be visiting.” You jumped down the last two stairs to the landing between flights. Pants felt great. Kung Lao seemed to either be overthinking your trip or grasping at straws to get to some end point. Or he was going to cause trouble. You would never forget the look that both Raiden and Liu had given him on their way out.

“I’ve been asked three times what brings me to Mount Osore during the festival. I came up with a lie on the spot but I’m no terribly proud of it or anything.”

“And what is this lie you came up with?”

“I said I was here on a date. Everyone else seems to be here on a date, so it was the first thing that jumped to mind.”

You rolled your eyes at him and he laughed in surprise, waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You caught up to him. “Really, Kung Lao?”

“What? It’s the first thing I could think of! The people asking me were on a date and so I stuttered that I was too.”

“Kung Lao, no.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“Can’t we just say we’re visiting and that it’s no one’s business?” You walked into the lobby and he hurried in front of you and took your hands, clasping them between his. You sighed. “Would you…” The lobby was very crowded.

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Would you,” he continued, talking over you, “do me the honor of going on a cute little pretend date with me so that we can sneak into an ancient Buddhist Temple built within the caldera of a volcano so that we can uncover an ancient and possibly cursed artifact together?” You stared at him in disbelief, but it was taking every ounce of your energy not to burst into laughter. He was such a dork. “I will get down on my knees and ask you again if you don’t answer me.” He got down on his knees and you broke. Laughing, you pulled your hands free, grabbed his arms and tugged.

“Oh my god, get up, Kung Lao.”

“It’s a great cover, Y/N.”

“It is an exactly okay cover. But fine. I haven’t done something terribly embarrassing in a while, so I guess I’m overdue for this.” You agreed at least. He was right. It was a good cover considering this whole place was filled with couples. Besides, if it got Kung Lao to drop the subject then you would be happy to agree. The whole display had made your cheeks burn.

“Embarrassing, huh? Come on, Y/N. It’s not such a bad thing, is it? Could be worse looking guys to end up with, right?” He walked at your side again, making a teasing kissy face and leaning close to you. You leaned away with an awkward and nervous laugh.

“If you keep doing things like that then you are going to get smacked.”

“Worth it.” He held the door open for you and together you left the hotel. Outside a bus waited to take tourists to the shrine for the festival. People were already loading onto it. Kung Lao offered you his hand and you looked to him skeptically. He grabbed your hand anyway and then you walked onto the bus. “You’re going to have to get better at pretending.” You found seats near the back of the bus and even as you sat, he didn’t let go of your hand. You felt incredibly silly. Yet, it also made your heart flutter. As much as you had given him a hard time, you also happened to think it was an incredibly sweet and kind of wholesome idea.

Funny enough, you had thought of this moment before but in a much different context. Maybe in a life where your childhood together hadn’t ended so traumatically. Where you’d stayed close friends and he’d have asked you out when you were old enough. In a way, you felt like a silly schoolgirl, something you hadn’t felt in years.

If he hadn’t died then this was exactly where you would have wound up. Somehow that made you feel much less silly and you finally relaxed. Kung Lao pointed out several interesting things on the side of the road through the window and you listened to him chatter on until the bus was pulling up to the shrine. You waited for the others to get off the bus and then you walked ahead of Kung Lao and stepped off it.

The shrine was huge and it took your breath away.

So much so that it made you dizzy.

A river flowed before you then beneath a red bridge. To the left of the bridge there was a white beach lining the bluest and most artificial-looking water that you had ever seen in your life. Rocks were piled alongside the shore in strange formations. Beyond the bridge there was a stone path that led to the shrine in the distance, and it was lined with old lanterns. You walked to the edge of the stone path where the bus had dropped you off to try and get a better look at the water.

That was a teal color you had never seen before in nature. In your mind’s eye, you recalled your vision and it made your stomach drop. You took a step further and were suddenly grasped around the waist and pulled away from the edge of the stone. Then Kung Lao looped his arm in yours. “You looking to take a dip?”

You hadn’t realized that you had almost walked right into the river. You hadn’t been thinking. The water had bewitched you, it seemed. You needed to get a closer look at it but now that you’d been turned away from it, the feeling had gone. From there you could smell the acidity in the humid air. That was likely why it was so blue. “Pay more attention, okay?”

You weren’t sure what to say to him. It was surreal being there. This place was exactly the same as it had been in your vision but also years, possibly centuries had passed since then. The shrine buildings themselves were much larger than they had been then. They were even a different color. Your head was spinning as you tried to take in everything at once. It was an overload. You grabbed Kung Lao’s arm to try and ground yourself. You felt as though you were floating and the wind would take you away.

Kung Lao led you onto the bridge and at its apex you sat and watched the water trickle beneath it. He helped you lean your elbows against the railing and then placed a supportive hand on your back.

“It’s okay. Take a second.” He seemed to realize that you were having a difficult time. How could you explain that you were struggling to wrap your mind around being in a place where you’d had such a vivid and violent vision? You were grateful for him. Your heart was racing and you watched the water flowing beneath the bridge, over the rocks. Your stomach had dropped. It felt as though you were intimately familiar with this place, as though you had spent years there, but you had never once seen it before. At the same time, everything felt completely new. Your brain was waging war with itself. “You okay?”

“Yeah, this is just… surreal.” You were finally able to collect your thoughts enough to talk.

“You went a bit gray. Figured you needed a minute.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So, where do we go?”

“There’s a well inside one of those buildings.” You nodded to your right where the shrine was at the end of the stone path.

“Vague, but okay.” He peered to the right and then pointed. “It’s off limits.” From there you could see a series of ropes that blocked off the building from visitors. “Great.”

“It’s crowded enough here. I’m sure we can sneak in just fine.”

“Of course.” He leaned next to you on his forearms, hands clasped together. “This place is a little spooky.”

“It is. I read a brochure from the hotel lobby. The monks here believe that it’s the gateway to hell. The river beneath us is supposed to represent the Sanzu.” You pointed below you. It was a little spooky, you supposed, but it was also incredibly beautiful.

“I read about that. I also read that there are holy water bathhouses and volcanic cauldrons with crazy colored water.”

“Yeah, and a lake of blood.”

“I hate that, Y/N.” He stuck his tongue out at the idea. You laughed. He was too funny. He had this way of making you feel at least even about the big and often uncomfortable things sometimes. Other times he drove your anxiety through the roof. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those moments. “What do you say that we get to sneaking in and find this thing so that we can have a bit of fun for the rest of the day, huh?”

“That sounds nice.”

He took your hand once again and you walked over the bridge and along the stone path. The lanterns were decorated for the festival along with the rest of the shrine. Monks walked about, greeting visitors and answering questions while explaining various attractions. Most visitors, and there were many, were straying from the temple in favor of the white sands or the volcanic cauldrons. You and Kung Lao walked until you reached the ropes before the shrine. You stood there for a time in the shade, waiting for your moment to sneak in unseen.

“Coast is clear,” you whispered and turned to keep watch while Kung Lao snuck into the shrine. Once inside, you waited for your opportunity and followed him. Inside, the building was ancient but to you it seemed oddly brand new. It wasn’t the same shrine that you remembered from your vision. Much had changed since that wicked man had been there.

No one was waiting for you inside the small entryway or in the room beyond. That seemed like the central room, with space for prayer and a dip in the center for dining. The floor was lined with tatami mats and the ceiling was high, windows on the second floor spattering sunlight throughout the room. Halls branched off in each direction and you suddenly felt overwhelmed with choice. It had seemed so much simpler in your vision.

“Lead the way but be cautious. We’re not alone.” Kung Lao spoke in a hushed tone, staying close to you but alert.

“Yeah.” You started through the room and down the closest hallway, checking to see if it was empty first. Kung Lao took your hand and you urged him along with you. Your stomach was in knots and his hand there continued to keep you grounded. Several times you encountered monks going about their business and you had to duck into other rooms or sneak back around corners. You somehow managed to remain unseen, having to huddle together in strange spaces and hide in enclosed areas. It would have been fun had it not been so damn frustrating.

None of it made sense! As you turned down another hall, you sighed in frustration. You’d wound up there twice already. Your gut kept sending you there and back to the central room but there was no indication that it was the same place that the vision had taken place in. Kung Lao suddenly pulled you back into the side room and held you against the wall near the door. There were footsteps in the hall, and you held your breath until they had passed. You made to go back into the hall, but Kung Lao pinned you in place.

“You’re leading us in circles.”

“I know. It’s hard to explain. It’s like someone’s moving everything around while we’re walking. It doesn’t make any sense. I think I’m going one way and then we’re back to where we started.” It was making you sick to your stomach, as a matter of fact.

“You can do this. Just focus.”

“Kung Lao, you have no idea what’s going on in my head right now. I am focusing.”

“You’re right I don’t. So, tell me.”

“I’m not sure that I have the words to explain that the room we’re looking for should be right around the corner but then it isn’t.” It really was disorienting to expect to be in one place and end up in another. “It shouldn’t have been this far back but also this place is ten times bigger than it had been in my vision.”

“I need you to try still.”

You were mixed up. It was like someone was moving rooms in your head and before you knew it, you had once again led him back into the central room which made both you and Kung Lao groan in annoyance.

“Oh good. We’re back. I was worried.”

“It should be right here, but everything looks so different!”

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’ll figure it out.”

“It’s not okay, Kung Lao. It should be right here. I wish I could just show you.” The frustration was radiating off you, you were sure. “I can’t-”

“Is someone there?” A voice from somewhere down the hall called and footsteps approached from a distance.

“Fu…” Kung Lao whispered and then grabbed you and searched for somewhere to hide. The closest hall was too far. You were caught. “Don’t panic.” He urged you to the wall with surprising care and you made a sound of surprise. What did he mean don’t panic? You were instantly panicking. Don’t panic? What was wrong with him? He leaned against you and tilted your chin up and his head toward you like he was going to kiss you, obscuring you both with his hat. “Act natural, Y/N.” His lips brushed against your cheek, just next to your lips. “I swear, you’re terrible at this.” You were stiff as a board, so he had every right to scold you, but also he was pretending to kiss you so what the hell were you supposed to do with that? What was natural in this case?

You gave him a swift but soft punch in the gut and he laughed against your cheek in return. That made you feel a bit better. He lifted his head just enough and you peered toward the door nearby, waiting for the monk that would inevitably kick you out. You could have had time to hide at this rate. Kung Lao’s lips were pressed against your cheek and they were soft even if it was just in a mock kiss close enough to your lips to look like you were sneaking a private moment.

You peered around the corner, thinking maybe you were in the clear. Kung Lao did the same and when you turned back to tell him that maybe the monk had decided to turn away, you found him extremely close to you. Intimately so. His dark eyes were serious and that always scared you for whatever reason. He tilted your chin toward him and all other thoughts slipped out of your brain.

What were you doing there? Where were you anyway? And why? Did it matter?

Not right now it didn’t.

His hand was on your chin, thumb brushing just below your lip, urging your lips to part just enough. You dared not breathe to break the tension of the moment. The sneaking and searching were gone completely from your thoughts. All that was left was the boy that you’d so admired in your youth grown into a handsome man with his hand against the wall at your side, the other inextricably lost below your lower lip.

His eyes were searching you, but you dared not look back into them for fear of what you might find, for fear of what it might reveal to you. His breath warmed your lips before they were on yours, parting them like a blossom in a soft and singular tender movement. A far superior kiss than the one he’d pretended to give you for the sake of saving your skin.

His lips were sweet. Not like sugar or candy, but sweet like the lingering taste of honey at the bottom of a cup of tea. It was a feeling of sweetness rather than a flavor. The moment was still and soft, his lips treasuring yours as though they were something sacred and special. They pulled back just enough from yours that you could feel your lips resisting to part as if they had minds of their own. His eyes were searching you still for answers and in wonder, but you didn’t dare meet them. Yet, you could feel his gaze and beneath your fingertips, that had betrayed you and now rested on his chest, you could feel his heart beating almost as hard as yours.

His breath graced your lips again, but you dared not breathe. You wanted to say something, even just a whisper of his name, but no words would come and you sat there, lips parted in waiting, avoiding his eyes, hand clutching the cloth at his chest, unsure of where you even were or why. This was Kung Lao.

Your Kung Lao.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as they were on yours again, but the softness was gone, though there was something about them that was still sweet even so. The force of his kiss pressed you against the wall, leaving you no escape- not that you wanted to escape. This was a moment that the ten-year-old inside your head had both longed for and not understood. You would have been a fool not to return his kiss, to taste and experience his lips the way that he was with yours and so you did. You kissed him and it was like a storm inside you beyond your control, building with electricity with every moment that passed.

There was a tender moment of acceptance where it felt as though time stood still. The soft moment faded quickly to frenzied desperation. There was no space left between you. Kung Lao was pressed against you, body warm and strong, hat nearly pushed back off of his head as he favored kisses over his possessions. Your hands moved up his chest, to the sides of his neck, fingertips then tangling in the short, messy tendrils of his hair at the base of his hairline. Your heart was doing flips, brain completely turned off to anything that had happened before this, even if somewhere in the distant reaches of your mind you could hear your instincts telling you that you had to stop. Whatever muting effect had been triggered in your brain had seemed to impact Kung Lao as well.

In one swift motion, fluid and strong, his hands were at your thighs and he had lifted you and pressed you against the wall, urging your legs to wrap around him. Your arms slipped naturally around his shoulders, pulling him closer between hot and increasingly sloppy kisses.

“Excuse me?”

Ah, yes. The monk. That was right.

You stopped kissing him.

Kung Lao’s lips finally pulled from yours and you could feel that your own were left slightly swollen from the desperation and passion of those precious few moments. When had you gotten so tangled up in each other? His chest was rising and falling against yours quickly and even though he’d pulled back his lips lingered close to yours as if to consider defying the monk further.

“My apologies.” The monk sounded embarrassed and bowed multiple times. “This area is closed to the public for the festival.”

You finally managed to regain your thoughts and untangled yourself from Kung Lao. You placed your feet on the ground and cleared your throat though your face was likely as red as his robes. He released you from his grip though he made no effort to step away. You swallowed the lump in the back of your throat and forced your brain to work.

“Is it?” You sounded surprised and were grateful that you had. You hadn’t expected to be a very good actor after all that, but you had been surprised to be interrupted and also confused as to where your mind had gone. It was more feigning innocence than lying. The monk nodded and looked as though he sincerely felt bad for interrupting you. “I’m sorry. We had no idea.”

“It’s no worries. I will happily escort you back to the festivities. Follow me.”

“Sorry about that.” Kung Lao, who you had never seen at a loss for words, seemed to finally regain himself. Just like that, he was back to the goof he’d been when you’d first arrived. “We were just sneaking off to have a private moment. Didn’t realize it was off limits.”

“It happens all the time. You’d be surprised.” The monk led you back through the central room and into the entryway. You elbowed Kung Lao as you followed the monk and he laughed beneath his breath. Once outside the monk bowed to you and then left you alone. You leaned your head back and stared into the sunny blue sky with a sigh. You needed a new plan. That one had gone off the rails in a way you hadn’t expected.

#kung lao #mk kung lao #kung lao x reader #liu kang x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #kiss #romance #fluff #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat movie #kung lao x you #kung lao/reader #kung lao/you #max huang #ludi lin #angst

79 notes · View notes

random-of-random · 3 years

Text

The Secret

Chapter 2 - Just One Day

Authors Note: Thanks for reading and favoriting, and for commenting. You guys are great!

Y/N Y/L/N and Percival Graves had met four years earlier, in 1921. She was new to MACUSA and he was already a top Auror. It was a tradition in the department that new employees learn from close observation of people who had been there longer. Y/N had been assigned to shadow Percival and she was given several words of condolence from her new co-workers.

“Don't let him push you out of here.” Arnold had warned her as he gave her a cheeky grin. He was being shadowed by Lovell. From the little she had gathered Percival Graves was a good guy, however he was also shrewd and some described him as single-minded.

When she went to his office and knocked on the door, she could feel her nerves building. His office was smaller then, and this one he shared with Arnold.

"Come in." His voice called and she hesitantly opened the door. Two desks were crammed into the tiny space, filing cabinets seemed to overflow. There were files covering the desks and piled on the floor. It was easy to see that it was a time-consuming job. Behind the desk to her right sat Percival. He didn't even glance up at her, at first, and he continued writing on a piece of parchment, the quill scratching on the paper reminded her of school.

"Mr. Graves?"

"Yes. You must be Miss. Y/L/N." She moved toward him slowly.

"Yes, sir."

"Graduated from Ilvermorny?" His hair was slicked back and black. She couldn't see the color of his eyes.

"Yes sir."

"One of the top students in your year." He still hadn't looked at her.

"Yes sir."

"What house?"

"Horned Serpent, sir."

"Did you always want to work in magical law enforcement, Miss. Y/L/N?"

"Frankly sir, no." That seemed to get his attention. The quill stopped and he turned to slowly look up at her. His eyes were a chestnut brown and seemed to be looking through her.

"What did you want to be?"

"A stage actress." She admitted and it garnered a small smile.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, sir."

"So, why are you here?" It wasn't a rude question, nor intense. Just inquisitive.

"If I was going to be on the stage then I would want to be somewhere big. Considering the Rappapport Law, I wouldn't be able to achieve that properly. So, I turned to the next best thing."

"From being an actress to catching criminals?"

"Yes, sir."

"And they sent you to me." He stood and placed the paper he was working on in an already full filing cabinet. "I suppose you've heard the stories." She could have lied, kissed a little ass, but that wasn't her style.

"Yes, sir, I have."

"And? How am I living up to them so far?" When he turned to look at her again she couldn't help but catch the smile he was trying to hide. Percival was handsome and she had a feeling he could be very charming if the mood struck him.

"A little lacking, sir." He chuckled.

"Welcome to the department, Miss Y/L/N. Now, if you wouldn't mind, we had a big bust if illegal imports yesterday and most of that needs sorted."

"Fine. Not a problem." She said putting on a smile. As soon as she left his office, she knew she was in trouble. Girls talked about plenty of other men in MACUSA, but Percival Graves was something special.

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

Y/N shadowed him continuously. Yeah, he was tough. Yes, he could be distant and cold. However, he was the best Auror she had ever seen. He was quick with a wand, his spells were powerful, and he had even mastered a few spells without the use of a wand. Every morning she would arrive at the Woolworth building by 7 AM. Every night she wouldn't leave until 8 PM. He stayed the same hours.

People constantly asked her when she was at lunch, "don't you hate this?" Her answer was always the same.

"Of course not! Are you crazy?" And she wasn't lying. She wasn't being insincere. Working as hard as she was had already improved her skills. There was so much Y/N thought she knew that was now being challenged. In her mind, she was working for the best.

The hardest part was Percival himself. She was enjoying being around him entirely too much. The way his eyes followed her suddenly didn't feel uncomfortable. It was welcome. The way he was studying her, she almost dared him to figure out her secrets.

Within three months she had stopped eating with the rest of her co-workers and started eating in Percival's office. Sometimes they would go over files, talk about the goings on in the magical and non-maj governments, and on rare occasions they would talk about personal things.

The personal conversations became more frequent over her year of shadowing him. He talked about the long line of Aurors in his family, and how he felt obligated to follow in their footsteps. However, it turned out that it was a field he was good in and enjoyed. He asked her about her family and seemed to want to know anything she was willing to share. She found out when he attended Ilvermorny he was in the Wampus house. Three had turned for him, the other two being Horned Serpent and Thunderbirds, but he went with the house based with warriors. It suited him.

"When I was in school Wampus beat Horned Serpent every time they played." He joked with her one day.

"That is not true." She said with an accusatory tone, though her eyes were alight. It was almost closing time, but they were still sitting in his office - the same place they had been talking for the last hour.

"It is." He insisted.

"If I waste my time going back through the records to prove you wrong..." he laughed then and the sound was beautiful. The door opened quickly and all signs of the levity were gone in that instant. Arnold walked in carrying yet another file.

"What's that?" Y/N asked.

"Dark wizard from Germany has landed in the US. He's a bad one. Already responsible for seven deaths. We have to catch him." Percival was on his feet in a second.

"Where?" He asked pulling on his coat.

"He was spotted in Central Park." Arnold answered.

"Let me come." Y/N suggested.

"No." Percival answered quickly.

"Why not?" She asked and he seemed to ignore her. "You were the one who said I was doing really well."

"I did say that." He admitted as he walked out of his office. Y/N was in tow.

"Then I should be able to go and prove myself."

Percival let out a tense sigh. “Y/N..."

"Come on, Percival. You know I can do this."

"No!" His shout made her take a step back in shock. The department was suddenly quiet as they all looked on at their head Auror. Granted, most of them were surprised this was the first time they heard him yelling at her. He took a few steps closer to her and lowered his voice so only she could hear. "Not this one. Just, trust me on this?" She merely nodded before she watched him walk toward the elevators. Turning on her heel she headed straight back to his office and shut the door after her. She was so mad it was hard to think of anything else. So, she did what she had been wanting to do for ages. She organized. Everything. Three hours later she was still putting papers into the last cabinet. She modified everything magically so it could fit five times the space is previously had. Any loose papers were sorted and put in their proper files which were then put in alphabetical order in one of the filing cabinets. A work of beauty. She allowed herself a moments rest as she looked over the office. It looked as if there was twice as much room as there had been. When the door opened she stood to smugly see his face, but it was Arnold who walked through the door. His normally styled hair was hanging loose, his tie was completely off, and she saw what looked like blood covering the arm of his white button down.

"Arnold, are you-" She moved toward him, but he put his hand up.

"It's not my blood." Her stomach turned and her breath hitched in her chest.

"I-is Mr. Graves... alright?" She dreaded the answer.

"I think so. He's with the healers now." Arnold took a seat at his desk and leaned back.

"What was he hit with?"

"A spell we had never seen before." Arnold answered her, his voice slightly shaking. "He just started bleeding." Y/N looked at him in shock. "It stopped when we got him subdued, but Percival lost a lot of blood."

"Are you alright though, sir?" She asked.

"I'm going to be fine, Y/N." She nodded and stood awkwardly. "He's in the healers room down on 20. In case you were interested."

"Thank you, sir." She took off, trying her best to look calm and inconspicuous. A few people had started to suspect something was going on between Percival and Y/N. How wrong they were despite how much she wanted them to be right. The rumors seemed to die down quickly. Something about Percival not being the type to settle down, let alone with someone like her. Y/N liked to joke, she was a little more lax about rules, and she didn't mind a little dancing every now and again. People in the building just decided that the two were never possible. Arnold, however, seemed to know how she felt about Percival. He would catch her looking at Graves as he scribbled a sentence on parchment or read quietly. As soon as Y/N would realize he was looking, Arnold would give her a kind smile or a wink. Though, he never told another soul about what he saw.

When the elevator stopped on 20 she stepped out and into a whole different world. She had been to a healing floor before, but not like this. It was bustling with healers running all over the place.

"Can I help you?" A young woman behind a desk asked.

"Yes. My boss was brought in: Percival Graves. I wanted to check and make sure he's alright."

"Your name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

"Alright, thank you. Have a seat in our waiting area and someone will be right with you." The woman indicated a small alcove filled with chairs. She hesitantly sat, but within a minute felt that she may stand up and demand an update. It was an excruciating hour before someone came out.

"Miss. Y/L/N?"

"That's me." The man who was now standing in front of her was older, maybe late 50's, with a kind smile.

"I am Mr. Graves healer."

"Is he okay?" She asked.

"Yes. He is going to be alright." She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and she allowed herself a small smile. "He lost a lot of blood, so we're producing potions for him to take every four hours for the next three days." The doctor explained. "He'll be groggy, but I believe he will do just fine. He will however need care because I want him to get bedrest. I can keep him here, if he would prefer."

"Thank you, and I'll run the options by him." Y/N said as she shook his hand.

"Would you like to see him?"

"Can I?" She asked. He put his hand softly on her upper back and led her back and deeper into the hallway. They walked for less then a minute when they stopped outside a room.

"Go a head in." He encouraged.

The room was very plain and ordinary. Sitting up on the bed was Percival. Already looking like he wanted to go another round. However, his skin was pale and it was easy to see he would be unsteady on his feet. His own clothes must have been discarded as he was wearing a hospital gown. She could faintly make out former cut marks on his arms that were an angry red. His brown eyes connected with hers and for a moment, she saw it. Relief. She couldn't stop herself. Taking several quick steps forward she pulled Percival Graves into a hug. Her arms wrapped around his upper back and shoulders and, to her great surprise, she felt his arms wrap around her waist.

"I'm glad you're back." She whispered before pulling away.

"You didn't have to come down here."

"I know." She answered. "So the docs said you have a potion you have to take every four hours for three days."

"Alright."

"And you have to rest - no working for those three days." He looked almost angry. "That way when you do come back you'll be at 100%."

"If I have to."

"And you're suppose to stay on bedrest. So, I'm going to come take care of you."

"What? No."

"It's your choice, Percival." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Let me take care of you for a few days..."

"Or..."

"Or you to stay here and be a special patient of the healers." It was as if he was at war with himself for a moment.

"When can we leave?"

#percival graves #percival graves x reader #percival graves imagine #fantastic beasts and where to find them

89 notes · View notes

dont-call-me-baby-posts · 2 years

Text

Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Side Chapter 1

Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Masterlist

Word Count: 5.8k (just a short lil piece about Anders bc why not?)

Inspired by this ask

Warnings: Mentions of dr*g use, addiction, mental health

Summary: Anders is in rehab, sitting in on one of his mandatory “stupid fucking therapy sessions”.

Alternatively: The One About Jena.

A/N: this has nothing to do with Harry or y/n. I’ll lyk right off the bat they’re mentioned like twice this whole chapter. I wrote this solely for fun, if you actually take the time to read it lmk what you think! (Honestly you prob should read this one because it does fill in some blanks but it’s not an official chapter you feel me) ANYWAYSSS lmk what you think!

Also sorry for any typos I didn’t spend as much time on this one proof-reading and what not.

Song Inspo for this chapter: Romeo & Juliet by Peter McPoland

///

The best thing about finally being out of high school was being able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to.

Anders’ mom didn’t want him moving out right after graduation, but he did. His birthday at the beginning of June meant he was now a fully grown adult able to make his own choices, and make choices he did. He moved into a tiny, dirty apartment with Matt in a shifty part of the city that was drastically different from his parents’ cozy suburban home. But he liked that it was so different, even if the AC didn’t work and he had to work two different jobs just to live there. He liked that it was nothing like the place where his parents lived, because he wanted a life that was nothing like the one his parents lived. He wasn’t meant for some boring ass 9-5 like his dad. That’s why he spent his free time writing his silly little love songs and recording them in his bedroom.

The apartment was small and crowded with an assortment of random friends (if you could call them that) and acquaintances always sleeping on the couch or smoking on the rickety balcony outside. It was everyone’s apartment, in a way, even if he hardly knew the people who stayed there most of the time. Anders didn’t mind that, as long as he got to be alone most of the time in his room. No one went in his room.

(One of Matt’s friends had snuck into his room once and broke Anders’ guitar during some party and Anders had to save up for months to get a new one. No one understood why he was so upset about it, because “no one would ever listen to the songs he was writing anyway”. That incident was reason enough for him to kick everyone out after that, but he mostly banned all entry just because he needed a space where he could be by himself when everyone else was hanging out).

Long story short, the apartment was kind of shit. And way too small. Still, Anders wouldn’t have changed a thing. He loved it all the same.

He loved it because he was finally alone. Because he could smoke all the weed he wanted to without his mom freaking out. And because he had Jena.

Jena with her purple painted finger nails. Jena with the loud voice. Jena who said anything she wanted to whenever she wanted to and didn’t care what anyone thought. Jena who was so unlike Anders in almost every single way. Anders was absolutely smitten the moment he met her. He always had been.

Jena was the kind of girl who smoked even more than Anders did and looked like an angel when she did it. She wore clothes that didn’t match. She dyed her hair pink and blue and yellow when she was bored. She was also the kind of girl who “didn’t believe in labels”, which meant she wasn’t technically Anders girlfriend, but she was in every way that actually counted. And even though she never said it, Anders knew she loved him. Anders knew she loved him because she let him smoke as much of her weed as he wanted to. He knew she loved him because she always came back to his apartment no matter how many times she swore she wouldn’t. He knew she loved him because she was nice to him most of the time. It was all pretty obvious if you asked him.

Even after Jena swore she was done with Anders, even when she started dating someone else, he knew she still loved him. Because she kept coming around and they kept having sex on the couch no matter how many “boyfriends” she went through. (Anders tried not to be too bothered by the fact that Jena suddenly believed in labels the second she started seeing someone else other than him. It made it easier not to mind that fact when she came over two or three times a week to hookup, boyfriend or not).

She would do the same thing every time. She would start dating someone, leave Anders on read for a week, then suddenly show back up talking about some “I still have feelings for you”. He believed her every single time. They would fuck and she would tell him what a great guy he was and how much she cared and then she would leave an hour later to go hang out with whatever dude she was currently with. (Jena never stayed the night, no matter what time it was). Anders didn’t mind, or at least he tried not to, because he loved Jena. He loved her enough to let her in his room. And Jena loved him. This is what love was, right?

It was during one of these “on weeks” a good two years into their so-called relationship that Jena showed up one night with some dude named Malcolm. It was confusing to Anders at first because Malcolm wasn’t the boyfriend Jena had just been telling him about the night before. Oh well, he supposed. Jena always said it wasn’t his business anyway.

Malcolm was one of those guys who still hung out with kids fresh out of high school even though he was fully 27 years old. They were all stupid enough to think he was cool, because he was older than them, and Jena thought he was especially cool because he had drugs.

And not the kind that Anders was used to. He had everything. He had it all.

“Come on, Ders, you should try some.” Jena was saying, all of them gathered around the coffee table they’d found on some street corner and brought into the apartment. “Just do a little bit!”

All eyes went to him, which made him instantly uneasy. He shook his head.

“I’m good.” He spoke, keeping his answer short in hopes that everyone would just leave it alone. They didn’t, though, Matt being the next to egg him on.

Anders didn’t even know what it was, and he was too embarrassed to ask. He’d seen Malcolm dump it out of some little baggy he’d pulled from his pocket and that’s as much as he knew about it. He’d never even done anything other than weed, so he was apprehensive to say the fucking least.

“He can miss out if he wants to,” Malcolm said with a softness in his voice that was there only to further embarrass Anders. Malcolm slung his arm over Jena’s shoulder and pulled her a bit closer, Jena happily leaning into him. “Just means there’s more for us, right baby?”

Jena looked across the table at Anders, who was now red in the face for multiple reasons. Anders bit his jaw closed tightly so that his teeth squeaked against one another, thinking.

“Just a little bit, Ders…” She whined, giving him that same old puppy dog face. “It’ll be so much fun!”

She reached across the space, taking Anders hand that he hadn’t realized was gripping onto the edge of the table.

Anders wanted to do whatever she said. Because he loved her. And if she was doing it, which Anders had just seen her do before his very eyes, then he should probably do it, too. It wasn’t a big deal.

“I don’t know….” He still said instead of agreeing, running his hands back through his hair. He didn’t know why he was being such a fucking pussy all of a sudden.

“Get a fucking grip, Ders. Just do it.” Jena told him sternly, losing the softness she’d had in her voice only moments ago and leaning across the space between them. Her face was now just a millimeter or so away from his, which made his heart beat faster than it already was. “It’ll feel so good. Don’t you want to feel good?”

He did. He really did.

He didn’t know what was up with him. Jena said he was crazy, so that was probably it. She’d spent the better part of the last six months telling him that. She said that whenever he spent a week at home without being able to get out of bed. She said that whenever he said he was feeling kind of “funny”. She said that when she came over for some random hookup and Anders said he wasn’t really in the mood. She’d call him crazy and then he’d feel bad and then they’d have sex anyways.

He believed her that he must have been crazy because he was sad all the fucking time. (Not that he would ever let anybody know that but her. He trusted her so completely it hurt him sometimes). Even when he was happy he was sad. And he was nervous, too, all the time. He thought too much about everything. He didn’t like meeting new people. He didn’t like talking to strangers. He didn’t like going to restaurants he’d never been to before because that meant he’d have to read the menu in a panic and figure out what he wanted to order and everyone would think he was being weird. He must be crazy.

Sometimes he would get so nervous he couldn’t even leave his apartment. He would cancel plans and tell everyone he couldn’t go out because “something came up” and then he’d spend the night alone with a blunt. That is until Jena would come over and tell him to “get a fucking grip” and force him to go out anyway. That’s what love was all about, right? Pushing each other out of their comfort zones?

But everything was out of his comfort zone. And she pushed all the fucking time. He let her do it because he loved her, though. He couldn’t say no to her. Even now.

“Fine.” Anders decided as he looked back at Jena over the coffee table, making her face break out into a massive smile. He took the rolled up bill from Malcolm’s waiting hand, (it was a one, they were broke), and leaned over.

And he did feel good. Better than good. It was insane.

And so he kept doing it, on and off depending on how much Jena wanted anything to do with him. Malcolm would come over and Jena would be with him (he still wasn’t sure what they’re situation was, but Jena called him crazy if he’d ask) and they’d smoke and sniff things off the coffee table until Malcolm left and then Jena would suck Anders off in his bedroom. Life was good during the “on” weeks.

But then time went on and she stopped coming around as much. She started telling Anders about all this new stuff Malcolm had, things that Anders didn’t even want to talk about out loud. He held his ground when it came to needles, and Jena never actually came around to force Anders to try them anyway. She’d call every once in a while and talk about them, though. It’s all she ever talked about.

And it wasn’t long after that before Jena started asking for money, or for rides off of random streets Anders had never been to. She’d ask for a place to crash but she didn’t even try to have sex with Anders anymore when she would spend the night because she’d already be halfway unconscious when she’d show up. She would just pass out.

“Maybe you should, like, chill for a bit.” Anders said to her one night, brushing the hair out of her face. She looked different now, she hadn’t dyed her hair in a while. Her roots were back to their dark brown almost to her ears. Her face looked like she had hardly eaten for weeks.

“Would you please relax?” She mumbled, eyes closing already. She was laid next to Anders in his bed, still fully clothed on top of the covers. She smiled as she snuggled up next to him. “You’ve gotta try this stuff, Ders. It’s incredible. It’s better than sex.”

He squinted at her, feeling sick just hearing her talk about it. He shook his head.

“I think you need to get some help or something, Jena… You look like shit.”

Her eyes were closed but he could see them roll under her lids. “Get a grip, dude. It’s not that deep.”

And so he left it alone. For a long time. He didn’t really have much room to talk, anyway. He let her come crash at his place and fall asleep in his bed and he let her borrow money when she “really, really” needed it.

It wasn’t always like this. Sometimes she’d come over and she would almost seem like her old self again. Every time that happened, Anders was so sure that she was done with everything, that he didn’t have to worry anymore. These were the “on” weeks now, fewer and fewer and farther between. The times when she promised him she was staying sober.

It was an “on” week when Anders moved to LA. It was right in the middle of one, actually. Jena really seemed like she was serious about all of it this time, about staying clean. She promised she would call and that she would come visit and Anders even tried to get her to come with him. He left her there in Chicago looking better than she had in a long, long time.

Once he got to LA, though, he didn’t hear anything. He didn’t hear anything for a few days, then a few weeks, then a few months…

He knew she would call in a couple weeks, though. He just had to wait for Jena to be “on” again. It was coming, any day now. She always came around.

He still loved her. He thought about her constantly. He loved her like he loved staying at home. He loved her like he loved that shitty apartment in Chicago. He loved her like he loved sniffing things off coffee tables he’d stolen off the street…

“You must hold some resentment, then, towards her.”

Suddenly, as if in the blink of an eye, Anders was sitting in a therapist’s office inside of a fucking rehab center in the middle of fucking California. So much time had passed without him even noticing it happen. The doctor had asked him to talk about Jena and even though he normally dodged the questions this guy gave him, he couldn’t help answering this one. He must have been talking for a long time, he had gotten so lost in thought…

Anders looked down at his hands, twisting his fingers between each other. “No,” he responded honestly. “I don’t.”

“And why not? If you’re so angry at Christian, why do you think you feel differently about her?”

This guy was always asking stupid fucking questions like this. Ever since Y/N dropped him off at this place that’s all this guy ever did. Anders just continued to stare at his hands.

“I don’t know.”

“Take a guess, then.”

“Because I love her.” Anders answered, knowing it wasn’t a guess at all. “And it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know it would end up like this.”

He was always sticking up for her, even now.

The doctor nodded, rubbing his pointer finger against his lips. “If not her, then who? Who do you blame for all of this?”

Easy answer. “Christian.”

“No, not Christian. You were doing all of this before him, you can’t blame him. So who?”

Anders huffed, annoyed. He did blame Christian, mostly just because he was an asshole but partly because it was Christian’s fault he got so fucked up. Sure, he was doing it all before he moved to LA, but only here and there. Christian was the one who threw him over the cliff. He’s the one who gave him the pills. He was the one who made promises he couldn’t keep, who swore he could fix all of Anders’ problems. He’s the one who swore “everyone in LA does it”. He’s the one who said it “wasn’t a big deal”.

“I guess you want me to say myself?” Anders responded with a grin. He did his best to push the doctors buttons the way the doctor pushed his, but he never reacted.

“Do you think you should?”

“I don’t know. I fuckin’ guess so.”

There was a pause. There were always these long-ass awkward pauses when he came to this lame-ass shit. He knew the doctor was waiting for him to say more, but he wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was.

“Let’s switch gears…” His therapist changed the subject after a minute, letting out a disappointed sigh at Anders’ silence. Anders could only shrug. “What have you been keeping yourself busy with these last few days?”

“That’s a stupid quetion.” Anders giggled, earning the smallest of smiles from the man across from him. “I’ve been locked up in here like some kind of animal. I haven’t been doing shit.”

“Locked up?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. He spent most of his time in sessions like, or crying, or throwing up, or talking to Y/N on the phone. He wasn’t exactly a busy guy lately. He did, on occasion, get to use the piano in the rec room, which was nice.

“You say that like you didn’t bring yourself here.” The doctor asked, shaking his head. “It could very well be worse for you. You must realize you have work to do.”

Anders groaned. Another stupid ass question from this dude who really thought he was making some kind of point.

“No shit. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m trapped here. Can’t even take a shower alone.”

His doctor nodded, taking off his glasses. He leaned back into his arm chair.

“That must be really difficult for you. But do you not feel that’s justified?”

“Not really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Crickets.

“I feel like, as much as you and I have talked, you’ve been avoiding talking about that.”

Anders knew what he meant by that. Of course he did. He meant that night, in the shower at his apartment.

“Trying to, yeah.”

“This is therapy, Anders.”

“And?”

“And this is where we talk about stuff like that.”

Anders groaned and shook his head.

“Didn’t you say we could talk about it ‘as soon as I was ready to’?” He asked, mocking the therapist’s voice. “I never said I was ready.”

“I think that maybe you are.”

“Well you’re wrong this time, doc.”

Anders wasn’t ready. He didn’t think he ever would be ready, aside from an out-of-pocket joke about it here and there. (Oh you have a paper cut? That must suck. Have I mentioned I almost died once?)

“And anyway,” Anders added, feeling snarky, “It’s not like I took the pills in the shower. What do they think I’m gonna do in there? I don’t even have anything to off myself with so I don’t see the issue. Worst I could do in the shower is jack off.”

“Where did you take them, then?”

“What?”

“The pills.”

Anders had said too much. Because now this guy wasn’t going to drop it.

“On the balcony.” He answered as if he didn’t think about that exact moment almost constantly. There was a lavender sunset that night that covered all the parts of LA he could see. It reminded him of her, a little bit.

“And you ended up in the shower how?”

“I got cold.”

It was dead silent again. Anders could feel his chest tightening.

“And what was on your mind? You must have been thinking about something.”

“Not a damn thing, actually.”

It was a lie. Obviously. He was thinking about everything. He was thinking about how much he hated LA and how much he hated Jena. No, how much he loved Jena. Right? He thought about Christian and he thought about all his unanswered messages from Y/N and he thought about the fact that nothing would ever, ever be better.

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

“I already said I didn’t, man.”

“Suit yourself. You can keep coming to these, what did you call them again, ‘stupid fucking therapy sessions’ as long as you like until you’re ready to talk about it. I don’t mind.”

Like Anders said before, this funny guy liked to push buttons.

“Are you hitting on me, doc?” He snickered, crossing his arms over his chest. “That might be a bit of a conflict of interest, I think.”

“Hilarious.”

Anders just shrugged, giving his best, most charming smile.

“Have you called your mom?” The doctor asked suddenly, making the smile fall straight off Anders' face and onto the floor.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“And why is that?”

Anders rolled his eyes. “Have you ever had to tell your mom that you overdosed? Seems like a bad time to me.”

“Never had to.”

“Well, try it sometime and let me know how it goes. You can get back to me about it during one of these stupid fucking therapy sessions.”

“If I ever decide to overdose, I will certainly let you know. Maybe give me a few pointers.”

“Hilarious.” Anders quoted the doctor back to him. He tried to be stoic the way the doctor was but ended up cracking a smile anyway.

He thought for a moment, deciding in a moment of weakness to actually be serious with his doctor for once. “I just don’t want to have that conversation with her yet.”

“You really should. That’s a part of all of this.”

“I only get thirty minutes for phone calls.”

“So use them on her. Ask her to visit.”

What was this guy not understanding?

“I use my phone time to call Y/N, and Harry comes for all of my visits. You’d have to give me more time if you really want me to talk to her.”

“You couldn’t spare one phone call with Y/N to talk to her?”

“Don’t want to.”

“But you would for Jena. You try almost every day.”

Right…

“She doesn’t answer anyway.”

“So why do you keep calling?”

“Because maybe one day she will.”

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. All this guy knew how to do was look stupid and nod thoughtfully.

“And what would you say? Why keep calling her in the first place?”

“I’d ask if she’s okay.”

“And if she isn’t?”

Anders hadn’t thought that far. He swallowed, unsure.

“I’d try to help, obviously.”

“And how exactly would you do that?” The man across from him asked, throwing his hands up in the air. “I hate to be frank with you, Anders, but I think we know each other well enough now that I can be. There is nothing you could do for her here. You are in the middle of the hardest battle you’ll ever have to fight. You can’t fight hers, too.”

“I could try-“

“Did it work when Y/N tried to help you? Did that stop you?”

Fuck. Maybe this guy was kinda good.

“No.”

“So why do you keep calling Jena?”

Because he loved her. Because she used to paint her fingernails purple. Because she loved him, even if she never said it.

“Because I feel bad.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t do enough to help when I could have.”

“And there it is.” The therapist sighed again, pointing at Anders' chest. “That’s it. You blame yourself for not doing enough, when in reality there is very little you could have done. She made her own decisions the same way you made yours. Would you want Y/N feeling this way about you? Would you want her to spend the rest of her life blaming herself for your bad choices?”

“I obviously fucking wouldn’t.” He shook his head. “But I can’t help it.”

“You talk about Jena all the time and you say that you love her. Do you feel like that’s true?”

“It is true.”

“After all this time? You still love her like.. like what? Like a girlfriend?”

“Dunno. Not really sure.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I mean I don’t fucking know the difference. If you love somebody you love them, right? What difference does it make?”

The therapist raised his eyebrows, almost in shock.

“You need to let it go, Anders. It’s time.”

“Gee, thanks doc. I feel better already.” Anders quipped, leaning forward to give the guy a slap on the shoulder. “You’re great at this therapy thing, you know that?”

The man just sighed, not even a hint of a smile playing on his face. “Do me a favor and be serious with me for a moment. I want you to hear what I’m saying to you, actually. Whatever punchline you’re setting up in your head right now, forget it.”

Anders crossed his arms again, bringing his knees up to his chest. This dude was on his last fucking nerve. Anders answered his question anyway.

“I would have moved on a long fucking time ago if I knew how, dude. I’m not like this on purpose.”

“Well you can start by not calling her this afternoon. You can call your mom instead.”

Anders didn’t say anything. He didn’t like what he was hearing, but he heard it anyway. Even when he turned his head away.

“Are you still writing songs about her?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I still love her.” Anders answered pointedly, annoyed at the therapist for suggesting otherwise.

There would be an “on” week coming any time now. He knew there would be. He just had to wait for it.

It was quiet again. There was no noise coming in from the hallway, there never was in this office.

“I’m starting to feel like this entire hold up on Jena isn’t really about that, Anders. I think you let go of the idea of her on a romantic level a long time ago.” The man said, gesturing with his hands. “I think you’re waiting for, what did you call it, an ‘on’ week because that would mean she’s okay. And then you wouldn’t have to feel guilty anymore, right?”

Anders cheeks heated. He wasn’t sure what to say. That wasn’t true, was it? Anders honestly couldn’t tell.

“And you write all these songs about how much you love her because writing songs about some girl you love is easier than writing songs about an addict. Am I totally off base here with this?”

“I-“ Anders tried saying, unsure. He tried to think of a joke but couldn’t. “I don’t know, man. Maybe?“

Maybe he was into something. Maybe Anders told himself he loved her because pining after some girl is easier than worrying about someone who may or may not be living on the street somewhere. Maybe he thought about Jena all the time because he was scared, not because he loved her.

But he did love her. He could still remember the way she smiled. He could remember, in painful detail, the way the light hit her when they would stand out on the fire escape together. The moonlight kissed them everywhere. She saw everything that Anders was, and she liked it most of the time. Why did that still mean something to him if he didn’t love her anymore?

He hasn’t done her justice in his little story earlier. Sure she was harsh sometimes and she wasn’t always around, but she was incredible. There were so many good moments between them, moments when she was his and only his for an hour or two. Moments when she made him feel on top of the world.

“She loved me.” He told the therapist, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe he just wanted to see if it sounded like a lie when he said to out loud. The doctor shook his head and leaned forward. He seemed even more serious all of a sudden, even more so than usual.

“Anders, I hope that one day you can see yourself the way I do. The way your friends do. Because as much as you like to believe it, what Jena did to you was not love. Maybe it felt like it was, sure, but that’s not love.” He paused, setting his little notebook down on the desk next to him. “Do I think she had love for you? Sure, why not. But you deserve more than the way she treated you, you know that right?”

Anders' entire face felt hot as he nodded. He didn’t really agree but he was too overwhelmed to do anything else.

“Good. Because I, for one, do not think you are ‘crazy’. You’re not broken. You don’t need to ‘get a fucking grip’, Anders, you just need to take care of yourself. You have this idea in your head that what you and Jena had was love and now you’ve pushed away anything that didn’t feel like that. You think that that’s all you deserve, because that’s all she gave you. That’s just not the case, Anders. You can do so much better, with someone else and with yourself. You deserve it, don’t you? You’re a cool guy. And a good person, too, even if you might disagree.”

Anders rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fact that they were tearing up. He wiped at his cheeks, not wanting to acknowledge that once again this dude was making him fucking feel things.

“Are you hitting on me again, doc?” He asked instead of answering, throwing the man a sideways smirk. His voice was tight in his throat even when covered by humor.

“No, I’m not.” He said, smiling instead of acting annoyed. “Just take the ‘fucking’ compliment.”

The therapist raised his fingers in air quotes, mimicking Anders’ usual vocabulary as he spoke. Anders could help but laugh just a little.

///

His fingers were on the buttons, but he couldn’t bring himself to push them.

He had decided not to take his therapist’s advice before he’d even left the session this morning. So why had he been thinking about it all day?

He’d spent so much time trying to fix Jena. He spent so much time loving her he barely had time to love himself. He just wanted to help. But now this dude was in his head and mixing all the pieces around and making it all so fucking confusing.

“Fuck me…” he grumbled to himself, leaning his forehead onto the wall next to the phone. That therapist was starting to piss him off the way he always made Anders actually think about things. It was annoying.

He started typing the familiar phone number, heart beating out of his chest. He listened to the sound of the ringing, which ended far before he was ready for it to when the person on the other end answered.

“Hello?” The familiar voice said.

His heart stopped. He leaned his head against the wall again as he pressed the phone against his ear. His grip on it was so tight it made his fingers hurt. He was crying, like he always fucking was here, almost instantly. He couldn’t believe it was really happening. He had to clear his throat before he could even speak.

“Hi, mom. It’s Anders.”

///

Around the same time, you were at home deciding which episode of Chopped to put on. Thinking nobodies life could possibly be any worse than yours.

You were reeling after the VMAS. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it for a second since you’d left there that night.

Harry seemed so different, already. He was exactly the same, but he was somehow so, so different.

He seemed a little bit brighter. Maybe that was just because he hadn’t spent much time around you lately, but he really did. He seemed a little softer around the edges. More refreshed. He seemed better. You couldn’t really explain it.

Good for him, you thought. That was a good thing. You wanted that for him.

He deserved it, and he’d managed to do it because you weren’t there to interrupt the process. You’d made the right call telling him off at Margot’s house after all.

That was a good thing. Really. It was great that he looked better than ever without you. It was fantastic that he seemed totally unphased by seeing you. That was… awesome. Really.

You pressed play on a random episode, not wanting to use up any of your very little leftover brain power to actually pick. You were really, really happy for Harry. He was doing what he said he was going to and it was already paying off.

Which was great. Really.

///

That night, Anders got some time to sit in the Rec Room.

He wasn’t in the mood to play anything on the piano in the corner though, really. He just wanted go to sleep.

It had been a long day. Too long. After his phone call he did what he normally did and went to group where they sat around in a circle and talked about all the ways their lives were horrible. Anders didn’t share, but he never did.

After that he had a visit from Harry, which he tried to cut short but couldn’t. He cried the whole time during that part, too. He just couldn’t stop. It was so fucking embarrassing he wanted to disappear.

Harry wasn’t sure if he was supposed to ask him why he was crying or not. He spoke softly to him about his day, telling him all about the car ride up here and how he saw an old man painting on the beach. Anders grinned, imagining being that old man.

“So do you want to talk about it?” Harry finally had the nerve to ask, crossing his legs to give the illusion of disinterest. He knew by now that if he pushed too hard Anders would topple over, so he tried not to ask too many questions.

Anders wiped his nose on his nose, giggling. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

He was trying to make it less awkward, for both of them. Harry chuckled because he knew it would make Anders feel better even though it wasn’t funny.

“Don’t ‘ave to if you don’t want.” Harry told him, looking out the window to his right. “Just checking.”

Anders didn’t say anything. He didn’t know why but he actually kind of did want to talk about it, which was weirding him out.

“Just been a hard day, I guess.” He breathed, stretching his aching legs out in front of him. He felt sick all the time, and his body hurt everywhere. “I called my mom, so that was…”

His voice trailed off. “That’s great, mate. Really.” Harry told him, smiling broadly. “I’m proud of you.”

“Stop that…” Anders laughed, a small blush coming to his cheeks. “It’s not a big deal. She just wouldn’t stop crying and shit and… you know. It was just tough.”

“I know it must have been. I’m really sorry. But it’s still good that you did it.”

“Feels like shit though.” Anders said honestly, nails scratching against the awful fabric of the chairs they put in this place. “I let her down so bad, you know? And she was trying to make me feel better. Shit just… fuckin’ blows.”

Harry just nodded along, mouth turned down in the corners as he listened. He couldn’t imagine having a conversation like that with his mom, the guilt Anders must be feeling would have to be crushing him right now.

“Anyway, how have you been? Did you call Y/N?” Anders asked him, wanting the focus to be off of him for a second. He rubbed at his bleary eyes with his cold fingertips.

Harry hated talking about himself at these visits. He hated it because Harry’s problems seemed so pale in comparison. It almost felt silly to bring them up here, but he did anyway because he knew it would make Anders feel better.

“I decided not to.” He answered with a shrug. “And my day’s been fine, I didn’t really do much. Just sat around until it was time to come here.”

Harry wanted to call Y/N. So badly. More than anything.

Seeing her at the VMAs a few days ago had nearly killed him, he was convinced. He didn’t know how he was still standing here at all.

It was a lot to take in. Seeing her, holding her, hearing her talk about Christian. It was devastating in every single way it could have been. He had tried not to think about it too much because he was supposed to be leaving her alone now. He wasn’t supposed to care anymore. But he did, quite a bit. More than anything.

“Why didn’t you call her, man? Didn’t you say you wanted to?”

“I mean I do. But she doesn’t want me to. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Anders giggled, honestly kind of amused by this entire mess. He got it from both sides, but wasn’t allowed to say anything to either party. It was like watching a TV show where you know what the main character doesn’t. It gave him something to do while he was hear, listening to them both insist the other didn’t want to see them.

“I think she does, man..” Was all he could say. Y/N hadn’t said so explicitly, but she’d been talking about him nonstop. Things like, “I haven’t even thought about him today” or “I honestly don’t care what he’s doing”. She talked about him way too much for either of those things to be true. “She’s probably sitting around at home just waiting for you to call.”

“Highly doubt that.”

“What if I told you I know so?”

“You’d be lying.”

“I don’t lie.”

Harry tried not to smile but did. “I think we both just need some more time. I just really miss her, you know? All the time.”

“Yeah, I know.”

After Harry left, Anders cried again. He cried because he was lonely, maybe, or maybe because he was tired. And now he was sitting on the piano bench, thinking about a girl he loved who he was pretty sure never actually loved him at all.

His fingers brushed the keys, Angie sitting on one of the sofas not too far from the piano. (Angie was probably his moms age. This was her fourth visit here in two years). She waited patiently for Anders to play, the same way she always did when he came in here.

“I got nothing, Angie. Sorry.” Anders told her, still just staring at the keys. She frowned, pulling her feet up onto the sofa so she was propped up on her hip.

“Play that one you wrote for me.” She asked, resting her head on her fist. She smiled a smile that looked almost as tired as his.

Anders remembered, on one of his first nights here, when Angie had sat in that same seat and listened to him play for the first time. He sang a song he’d written year and years ago, back in his old apartment, and she cried the whole time.

“Who did you write that for?” She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Everyone here was so emotional all the time.

Anders threw her a grin, “I wrote it for you, beautiful.”

“Don’t wanna play that one today.” He answered her request, trying not to sound too short with her. He let his shoulders fall.

“Bad day?” Angie asked, voice tinged with an understanding it seemed like only she had for him. He chuckled at the understatement.

“The fucking worst.”

She thought for a second, grinning. “All the more reason to sing a pretty song, hm?”

He couldn’t say no to Angie. So he nodded, playing the beginning notes to a song he’d written for someone else. A song about love and fire escapes and that shitty old apartment. A song about the “on” weeks. A song about a girl that, after thinking about it, he was certain never loved him at all. Not even a little bit

///

Someday, down the road, I hope to be your Romeo I'll climb the wires to your landline While you're crying on the telephone And you're sitting, feet dangling Cheeks so rosy red and saying "Baby, I was so upset, I thought you'd never set me free" "Hello?"

I'd say, "Oh, I love you" to my Juliet If you only knew, I'd kill for you, I am for you I am just who you need me to be Let's get down, and let's grow old This fire escape is getting cold I love that dress, I love the rest Of all that you've got going on

One day when the lines have all been read and memorized I hope you mean it when you say that I am yours and you are mine

Singing down here, on my knees I'm begging, "Won't you marry me?" I love that dress, I love the rest So Jena make me go, go on…

#blacking out and breaking hearts #bobh #Anders #what do I even tag this

12 notes · View notes

animeheadcannoncentral · 4 years

Text

NSFW ENJI (Endeavor) X READER ONESHOT

Business/CEO A/B/O AU - this just popped into my head and turned into a 10 Chapter fic you can read on Ao3: “Hidden Flowers”

Warnings: smut, Dom Enji, sub reader, rough sex, A/B/O dynamics, alpha Enji, omgega reader, alpha Toshinori, heat cycles, dirty talk

Words: 5k

(Y/N) checked her emails one final time, ensuring nothing new had come through in the last three minutes that needed her boss’s attention. She picked up the file she had organised for the day, shuffling the papers into a neat stack before rising to her feet, straightening out her clothes and marching towards the CEO’s office. She opened the door without knocking, an action that he had told her to forego many years ago, she was his secretary after all, if she had something urgent to tell him, there was no point in wasting time knocking on the door. And he also didn’t need to burden of someone knocking on his door fifty times a day. The red head was on the phone when she entered, this scene wasn’t uncommon, some days he scarcely got away from the damn thing.

Closing the door behind her, she walked up to his desk and placed the pile of papers down on his right before walking to a white board and started neatly writing out the day’s major meetings.

“I don’t care about the cost, how long will it take to get it up and running again?” Enji sighed into the phone as he noted down the time frame.

“Is there another company that can fix it faster?” she turned back and saw he was looking at her. He’d asked both her and the person on the other end of the call, he just knew she’d come up with a solution faster.

“Mack Plus have the best engineers, Trencher Co. will be quickest but they fixed that unit previously and it’s broken again, I would suggest Wheels Down Inc as nothing they’ve fixed has broken again and it will be fixed within the week” she spilled out, she’d read the email about the mining vehicle break down this morning and immediately looked at the data for previous break downs. The man nodded and wrote it down, whilst also rolling his eyes at whoever was on the other end of the call.

“(Y/N) will send through contact details for further correspondence with Wheels Down Inc, let me know once the machine’s operating again” and the CEO hung up.

“Fucking useless” Enji muttered as he started going through his emails, “got any good news?” he asked.

“Stocks are up again today?” she tried which resulted in a small smirk from him.

“And you only have one meeting currently locked in today as well, however it is with a major shipping company that we’ve been trying to create a deal with for the past five years” she frowned a little at the last part.

“I said good new (Y/N), not mediocre news” he sighed.

“It’s their new CEO, so I guess a new chance to make good impressions” she tried again.

“That’s why I’m putting you on the front line”

“I’ll do my best Sir” putting the whiteboard marker down and turning back to him.

“Have you found anything of use in Yagi’s background?” he asked as he started going through the files she had left on his desk.

“Nothing of particular use. The problem is he seems completely different to his father, since he’s taken leadership, the company has become heavily involved in charity work. Regardless of whether it was his intention or not, the shipping company has gained a huge amount of positive press. I found nothing on Yagi himself, the only thing you can really play into in this deal is the ‘make the world a better place’ because even after a deep dive on his history, I couldn’t find anything to suggest he wants anything else” she explained with a shrug.

“How do our eco stats look?” he questioned.

“Favourable, we’ve cut emissions by seventy-five percent with the new machine’s we’re using, and with the new sonar tech that’s been implemented we’ve reduced habitat loss due to our companies’ procedures by nearly ninety percent. The rest of the report is on page five” she was confident as he went through the papers and pulled out the report.

“Increase public profile” the red head raised an eyebrow at the short list of suggestions she had made.

“It can’t hurt Sir, becoming more involved with the local community could see a potential increase of upwards of twenty percent in sales”.

“At what cost?” he put the paper aside, knowing she would be able to give him a clearer answer than the document.

“Time, funding, man power” she was curt, the CEO didn’t like wishy washy explanations.

“The board won’t like that” it was a statement.

“Can’t make an omelette and all that” she shrugged and he eyed her. She had never been wrong when it came to giving suggestions or advice on what was best for the company. She would voice her opinion on occasion, when she knew she was completely in the right. It was one of the many reasons Enji kept her as his secretary and refused to promote her to a section manager, not to mention the ridiculous bonuses that he forked out to her at the end of each year for her work. She were too goddamn valuable, and unlike many of his employees, she wasn’t afraid of him. The alpha was used to people grovelling at his feet, begging and pleading for whatever it was that they wanted at the time, usually sex or money, even employment. Enji Todoroki was one of the strongest alpha’s out there, hell, he was so intoxicating some alphas had even begged him to use them. But she wasn’t like them, it was almost as if she couldn’t smell pheromones, he was almost convinced that she in fact couldn’t, going by the amount that he had released around her in the beginning to test her.

When he’d first met her, he was shocked by her professionalism, she didn’t seem to care that he was an alpha and she wasn’t deterred when he borderline threatened her during the job interview. Hell, he didn’t even know what her secondary gender was, her CV states that she’s a beta, but the way she acted sometimes, she could convince anyone she was born an alpha. She wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and she certainly wouldn’t let him dish it out to her either, or if he did, she’d give it straight back and usually be right, and always got away with it. It’s why he respected her so much and hadn’t tried to come onto her once, also because he was more attracted to submissives, and she were far from it. She took suppressants, that much he was sure off, she never smelled like anything, and she didn’t give off any scent at all, ever.

“When’s the meeting?” he asked.

“In thirty minutes” she said as she turned to leave.

“You better get to it then” he mused.

“You don’t have to tell me twice” she gave a small smile and then exited the room. She made her way down to the lobby of the building to greet Mr Yagi on his arrival, just in case he was early. And wouldn’t you know it, this ball of sunshine was always early. He walked through the front doors to the building not two minutes after she had walked out of the elevator. She lifted her shoulders, stood up straight and approached the man with confidence.

“Mr Yagi, I’m (Y/N), Mr Todoroki’s secretary, it’s an honour to meet you” she put on a bright smile upon reaching him and what must have been his secretary. It wasn’t until she reached them that she realised how god damn tall the man was in person. Sure, Enji was tall, but for some reason, this man’s height stuck out to her. And they were both businessmen, so how the fuck did they both luck out in the looks, smarts, height and muscles departments?! It just wasn’t fair. Forget about triple threat, these men were quadruple threats. They covered all fronts.

Then to her surprise, he actually offered her a hand to shake with a genuine smile.

“Thank you for greeting us, this is my secretary Izuku, we’re so glad Enji was kind enough to host this meeting” his voice was deep, but kind and polite as she shook his hand, referring to the greenette beside him. She glanced at the young man before returning her attention back to the alpha in front of her.

She had never met a business partner this kind-hearted before, the business world didn’t usually allow his kind to thrive, but here he was, the CEO of the world leading shipping company. Without even realising it her cheeks flushed a light shade of red and she felt her heart rate increase, and of course, her scent glands started aching as they tried to release pheromones. Luckily, her suppressants were working for now, but it was then that she caught his scent, everything went blurry for a second and she lost focus.

“Are you alright Ms (Y/N)?” he asked, gently stabilizing her by her shoulders. She cursed herself, why did her body have to react to an alpha now of all times?

“I’m so sorry, Mr Yagi, and (Y/N) is just fine” she smiled up at him, puffing out her chest a bit and stabilising her footing.

“Please, call me Toshinori” he corrected her and she was slightly stunned for a moment. Every single business partner she’d ever introduced had always treated her like trash on the side walk, scarcely giving her the time of day. She’d be lucky if she even got a grunt of acknowledgment from them.

“If you’d kindly follow me” she said and turned to lead the way. Taking the chance to scoff at herself and attempt to pull herself together, an attempt that miserably failed when Mr Yagi insisted on maintaining small talk then entire elevator ride. He was just being a human being, asking how her day was going, how long she’s been working at the company, if she enjoyed working here. She could feel her temperature rising with each question he asked, and pain started erupting in her abdomen.

“Please follow me” she said politely, stepping out of the elevator cursing herself, she was going into her heat early, and she was pretty damn sure it was because of the presence of this alpha. She guided the CEO and his secretary to an empty meeting room.

“Please wait in here for just a moment, Mr Todoroki will join you shortly” she said before closing the door. Her head was starting to spin and the pain was growing from annoying to uncomfortable ridiculously fast. She maintained her composure as she walked into her small office, quickly taking some pain killers with half a litre of water. She ruffled through her draws as she looked for her EpiPen, her heart skipping a beat when she couldn’t find it. She knew she had one here for emergencies. The omega let out a sigh of relief when her hand glided over it. Quickly removing the cap and injecting herself with more suppressors that would hopefully stop the effects of her early oncoming heat for at least the next few hours. She took three deep breaths before exiting her office and entering Enji’s.

As soon as the door opened, a wave of pheromones hit the CEO. His brow furrowed in anger. His employees knew better than to come to work during rutting or heat cycles, it decreased everyone’s productivity.

“Get the fuck out of…” his eyes had been fixed on the computer when he glanced at the intruder. “…(Y/N)?” he looked taken aback. There was no way she was an omega. She always held herself like an alpha, how the hell was this strong, independent woman a fucking omega? However, he couldn’t deny that her scent was causing blood to flow straight to his cock.

“But you’re not supposed to be off til next week” he went to check his calendar.

“I know, it’s come on early” she let out a stuttered sigh as the drugs finally started to set in.

“I’ve taken some emergency suppressors, my hormones should level out in the next minute or so. I um, Toshi… I mean, Mr Yagi and his secretary are in the meeting room” she shook her head at herself. It was then that everything clicked for Enji and a smile crossed his face as he rose from his seat.

“He’s sent you into an early heat, hasn’t he?” the alpha’s voice was low, but there was a hint of playfulness behind it. She ground her teeth, refusing to answer the question, instead choosing to look away. He approached her, a smirk still playing on his lips, instead of walking through the door, he shut it, as he caged her between his arms.

“You know better than to not respond when I ask you a question, omega” he let the work hang in the air, testing her boundaries. Her brow furrowed and she glared up at him.

“You don’t get to call me that” she growled at him, then noticing that he was purposely releasing pheromones to try and rile her up. If she hadn’t just shot herself up with enough suppressants for a week, she would probably have slick running down to her ankles by now. Her boss was unfairly attractive.

“Answer the question (Y/N)” he leaned close to whisper into her ear.

“So, what if he has?” she burst out, ducking out from under his arms and walking across the room, folding her arms, “All he did was smile at me and I lose control, what the fuck is wrong with me?” she sighed angrily rubbing her temples.

“When was the last time you properly went through a heat?” Enji asked her, she looked back at him to see a genuinely concerned face. When she had taken her mandatory time off for her mating cycle she never stopped responding to emails, most people wouldn’t touch their computers during the height of a mating cycle, it all became too much, but she was always online, which told him that she probably hadn’t let her body go through a normal cycle in a while.

“I don’t know, during high school, like eight or nine years ago” she shrugged and the CEO just blinked at her in shock.

“I had more important things on my mind” she shied away from his judging look.

“That’s still a long time” he pushed.

“It’s not like I had an alpha to help me through one!” she suddenly shouted at him, she stared him down for a moment before realising what she’d just said and who she had just said it to.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that’s not your fault, nor something you should worry about, fuck I hate this” she muttered.

“(Y/N), be honest with me, have you ever been through a proper heat?” he asked, when she turned to him this time, there was nothing but concern in his face.

“No” she didn’t make eye contact with him, but she had no reason to lie to him. Enji hated how submissive she was being, this wasn’t her at all, while a dark part of him did want her begging for his cock, he hated seeing her looking so vulnerable, he wanted to protect her, to make her feel safe.

“Look, I’m going to be really selfish now, but if you think you can handle staying for the meeting then I could really use your help. If not, I’m also more than happy for you to go home. But you’re going home before lunch today either way and I strongly advise you don’t take any more suppressants” he paused for a moment, as if trying to word something correctly, “What I’m about to say, I’m saying as a friend, not your boss, if you need help getting through it, i can help you. But who knows, maybe you might actually be able to get his number and he can help you” the alpha growled slightly at that last part, admitting and acknowledging that he wasn’t the one to set off your heat. Although to be fair, he hadn’t purposefully released any pheromones around you since you had your job interview with him. The girl let out a sigh and composed herself, straightening out her shoulders.

“I’m staying for the meeting” he knew she would, “but I am not going through a full heat” she said firmly, walking past him.

“(Y/N)!” he was about to say more, but she had already walked out the door, heading towards the meeting room. She opened the door and put a smile on.

“So sorry to keep you waiting” she apologised.

“That’s quite alright” Toshinori smiled back at her, however he noticed that she was no longer producing the lovely pheromones that he knew he had set off. Was the girl taking suppressors? He was certain he had set off an early heat, that fact that she was supressing it frustrated him. He loved seeing a flustered omega, especially one who was normally kept together as this one appeared to be. She was going to pose a challenge, and Toshinori was going to have fun pulling her apart and turning her into his little slut. The thought had him half hard in his pants. This omega was going to belong to him, one way or another.

Enji followed her into the room. The two CEO’s shook hands and introduced themselves to each other before commencing the meeting. (Y/N) was a sharp as ever, handing Enji the correct documents when they came up in conversation and was able to provide any information when called upon. Izuku wasn’t as sharp as she was, but still maintained a professional standard and look about him, the boy certainly didn’t let the woman’s sheer dominance fluster him. The meeting went as well as it could have, they both signed a contract of partnership, so it went better than both parties were expecting. Seeing her in action just made Toshinori want her more. She was professional, sharp and confident, and he wanted to be the one to own her, to see her trembling underneath him, begging for his cock. Somehow, all four of them managed to remain professional throughout the entire meeting, there were no sly words with hidden meaning, and (Y/N) was thankful for that.

Enji Todoroki was never one to escort his guests out himself, it just wasn’t a thing that he did. So, he left the meeting as he usually would with a ‘pleasure doing business with you’, but he purposefully changed the wording on the following sentence ‘my secretary will get you anything you need before you go’. She burned holes into his back as he exited the room. She was going to kill him. The next morning’s headlines would read, ‘Secretary jailed for attempted murder of her boss’. She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

“Midoriya, go wait outside, I’ll be down shortly, I just need to go over a few things with (Y/N) before we leave” the tall blonde uttered to his secretary.

“Of course Sir” the boy said before he exited the room. Toshinori’s eyes didn’t leave (Y/N)’s, who still had her business face on. He couldn’t read her. This was going to make things more difficult. After seeing her in action, he wanted her even more, and without even realising it, his pheromones radiated off him. But she was acting as if she couldn’t sense them, which pissed him off.

“What can I help you with, Sir?” she asked, her tonne polite, but holding no emotion behind it. Unlike their first interaction where she put on a sweet, warm smile for him, she was bitterly cold now, purposely trying to shut him out.

“I don’t like corporate titles, I told you to call me by my first name” he sighed, rising form where he was sitting, she was going to be more of a challenge then he originally thought. That was fine, he was actually excited.

“Is there anything I can get you, Toshinori” she said softly, not removing herself from her seat as the man walked around the table removing something from his pocket. He handed the small piece of paper to her.

“You seem like a very professional woman, so I hope you don’t take offense to this, but here’s my number, I’d love to catch up for a coffee sometime” he said with a smile and she took the paper from him carefully, the man was letting off an absurd amount of pheromones which were causing her to literally burn off the suppressants she’d taken no more than two hours ago.

“I…uh…” she tried to respond, but the alpha gripped onto the side of her chair, leaning over her to whisper in her ear.

“Let me know if you need any help with your heat, something tells me you’ve never had an alpha look after you properly before” he growled lowly in his chest before pulling away and walking out of the room with a smirk on his face.

Once she finally recovered, she heaved herself out of the chair and found that her panties were completed soaked through, luckily it hadn’t yet soaked through to her actual pants yet. She made a quick dash to her office before closing the door behind her. She turned the internal heater on and grabbed the emergency blanket from the bottom draw, wrapping it around herself and hiding in a bundle under the desk with her laptop as she continued to work, hoping it would distract her from the slick pool that was growing around her cunt and the immense pain growing in her lower abdomen. At about three in the afternoon an email came into the inbox that needed the CEO’s immediate attention. She was too worn out by that stage to register that he had told her to go home and she probably shouldn’t be working at all. She flicked the email to him without a second thought.

Upon receiving said email, Enji’s brow furrowed, she should have been home by now. He quickly opened the door to his office just to check she had in fact gone home, letting out a low growl when he noticed her light was still on. He stormed across the corridor and opened the door, a wave of sickly sweet pheromones hitting him all at once. He was confused when he didn’t see her sitting at the desk, she had to be in the room, there was no way the place smelled this sweet without her being in there. He closed the door behind him and walked around the desk to find her nesting. His first thought was to yell at her for not listening to him and also for using the goddamn office to nest. But then he saw she was shaking as she tried to type out an email, it took a moment for her to noticed him crouching there looking at her incredulously.

“I told you to go home” he rumbled deeply, and she winced.

“I… I can’t walk” she admitted, refusing to make eye contact with him. Something burned inside him, obviously that alpha had said something to her to set her off again, and then just goddamn left her. It infuriated him, sure he’d done the same thing to plenty of omega’s before, but this was his…, no not his, this was (Y/N).

“I want you to send a message out to all staff working today and inform them that they can knock off” he said calmly. She was confused by the instruction, but took a minute to type out the message and sent it on his behalf.

“Now close the laptop and give it to me” he said gently, and she cautiously complied, handing him the laptop before he placed it on the desk over her.

“Come here” he motioned towards himself, and she went to move, but her eyes widened in panic and she returned to the way she was sitting, confusing the alpha who was doing everything in his power not to just grab her and knot her right there.

“If I move, it’s gonna run” she whispered, his face scrunched up in confusion for a second.

“What’s gonna…” he stopped short, she was worried about her slick. She really had never gone through her heat’s properly before, she was embarrassed by something that was normal, something that made him almost lose control and show her just how normal it was.

“That’s okay, it’s normal” he said, still offering his hand to her, she looked at him then, searching his eyes that were looking at her with kindness. There was no malicious intent behind them. She slowly reached for his hand and crawled out of her makeshift nest, pausing for a moment when slick gushed down her thigh, before continuing to crawl out from under the desk. Enji noticed she was clutching her stomach the entire time. She lifted her face up to look at him, she had tears in her eyes.

“Enji, can you please…” she paused trying to think things through, “can you please fuck me?” a tear rolled down her cheek when she said that and the alpha wasn’t’ sure if she was crying from the pain or from giving in. He unintentionally started releasing pheromones, having an omega so close to him, and especially considering that omega was clearly under a lot of stress, his instincts were taking over.

The omega couldn’t help herself when she caught his scent, she latched onto him, rubbing her face into his chest, taking in as much of it as possible. Seeing how well she responded to his pheromones, Enji started released them in waves and the little omega in his arms sighed and then started doing something he thought she’d ever do. She had split her legs over one of his muscled thighs and was rubbing herself on it. If he hadn’t been stiff before, he was definitely rock hard now. The omega was whimpering with each thrust of her hips, and soon enough, Enji could feel his pants becoming covered in her slick. He would never allow an omega to dry hump him like this, but she looked so goddamn perfect as she chased her orgasm on his thigh. He ran a hand through her hair, gently tilting her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

“Are you enjoying yourself? Little omega?” he asked lowly, she let out a moan then made eye contact with his stone-cold eyes, that screamed indifference.

“Please…” she whimpered, by the way she was shaking, he could tell she was close.

“Please what?” his eyes narrowed as he looked down at her.

“Can I p-please c-cum, alpha?” she begged, and something stirred in him, maybe she was a submissive after all. And as much as that excited him, he wasn’t going to be cruel to her right now, he had promised to help her after all. So many dirty things flooded into his head to respond with, but he wasn’t sure if they’d scare her off or turn her on. He decided teasing her was the best way to go.

“You’re so close already, and I haven’t even touched you” he mused, easily picking her up off his thigh and placing her in his lap, she let out a moan as she rubbed herself against his clothed erection.

“Good omegas look at their alphas when they cum” he whispered in her ear and then leant back into the chair, to watch her as she came undone. The girl did her best to look at the alpha as she rode out her orgasm, but her head titled back in euphoria at the height of her orgasm causing Enji to bite his lip to try and control himself. She was going to send him into an early rutt if he wasn’t careful. The girl was shaking as she came down from her high, however, her eyes widened slightly when she comprehended what she’d just done and she quickly looked away, causing Enji to smirk at her expression.

“Come now, you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you, (Y/N)?” he asked, gently grasping her chin and guiding her head to look at him.

“Yes, but…” she trailed off.

“But what?” he asked curious, although, the alpha was well aware of the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it.

“You’re my boss and I just, oh my god” she hid her face in his chest and he chuckled deeply.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m thoroughly enjoying this” he looked down at her to see her flash dagger eyes at him before she doubled over, whimpering in pain as she clutched her stomach.

“I can make the pain go away, you just have to ask” he whispered into her ear. She lost all normal sense as her instincts took over.

“Please fuck me, please alpha, I need your cock, use my cunt, please” she begged and a thrill rushed through Enji’s body.

“You’re so pretty when you beg” he trailed his hands down her body, hooking them under her thighs and lifting her up before easily manoeuvring her onto the desk. He rolled her pants and panties down to her ankles in one go, and was pleased to see that she had removed her shirt when he looked back up and was in the process of removing her bra, before laying down and displaying herself to him.

“Sir, please, I need your thick cock inside me, please fuck me” she begged again, looking him the eyes, on the verge on tears. The alpha released his hard cock from his restrictive clothing, stroking himself as he watched the omega writhe below him. It was a dream come true, seeing her beg for him like that, and it was taking his last piece of self-control not to dive in and fuck her immediately. He leant down over her, slapping his cock against her cunt, teasingly as he gently moved his hand to stroke her face, she nuzzled into his palm.

“Alpha, please, use me for your pleasure, I’m yours, please alpha, please” she begged again, attempting to thrust her hips upwards to gain any form of friction. Enji’s last fibre of constraint snapped, and with no warning, he thrust into the hilt and his omega let out a scream a pleasure. Even though this was her first time, there was enough slick pouring out of her cunt that his massive tool didn’t hurt her, it stretched her perfectly and hit all the right places as Enji started to thrust in and out of her cunt.

“Fuck… your cock… mhmm, feels so good, alpha, do whatever you want with me” she panted as he rammed into her. It was invitation Enji realised. He smirked as he gripped her throat with his free hand, and she let out a whine. Gently running her hand up and down his arm, encouraging to grip her neck tighter.

“Do you like that, little slut?” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded, her hips thrusting up to meet his.

“Good pets reply when they’re asked a question” he sneered, gripping her neck like a vice.

“Yes daddy… I love it when you choke me” she managed to wheeze out using the little oxygen that she had left in her lungs. Her words were nearly enough to send him over the edge.

“You’re such a filthy omega, I bet you’d do anything to please your alpha” he growled as he pulled his hand away from her throat, hooking one arm behind her back, the other under her thighs so he could lift her up. Her legs wound around his waist, arms hooking around his neck as he fucked up into her cunt, using gravity to enhance the angle.

“Mhm… anything to please you, anything, use me as your cock sleeve, I’ll be your cum dump, I want to satisfy you, please Enji” she moaned into his chest. This omega was going to be the death of him. She’d used his name, which meant that there was truth behind what she was saying. He could feel his knot starting to swell up.

“Fuck, you dirty whore, if you don’t stop talking like that, I’m going to knot you” he growled.

“But I mean it Sir, i need you to use me, I could keep your cock warm during long phone calls, mhmmm, you could come in here and fuck me whenever you wanted to, I need to pleasure you, please alpha” she whined.

“I bet you’d even let me fuck you in the middle of a meeting, wouldn’t you? Fuck. You’re mine. You’re my pretty little cum dump. You are mine, all mine” he growled possessively, thrusting deeply into her. It was enough to send her over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name as she clenched around his cock. He was patient and waited until she came down from her high.

“Alpha” she whispered in a sighed, he grunted, informed he was listening.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth or my ass?” she asked with a sly grin and he smirked, this omega had stamina, and the fact that she could keep up with him just made her that more attractive.

“All fours, face down, ass up” he ordered as he placed her on the ground. Oh and did she move quick for him.

“You’re such a perfect little omega for me” he cooed to her as he knelt down behind her, hotdogging her ass with his slick covered dick, using the slick build up to cover his knot.

“Please, use me alpha, I’m all yours” she begged.

“You’ve cum twice now, and you still want my cock. You greedy bitch” he growled, thrusting inside her back entrance, forcing his knot inside, scraping against her walls. The omega beneath him let out a muffled scream of pain.

“If it’s too much for you, I can take it out” he wasn’t being kind, he was teasing her as he fucked her ass. (Y/N) pulled her teeth from her arm and panted before responding.

“I’ll take your cock whenever you give it to me alpha. My perfect, handsome, strong alpha. I’ll give you anything, I’d do anything to please you. I belong to you” she moaned, it was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he muttered, with one deep thrust, he poured his seed into her ass with a guttural moan.

“Thank you alpha” the omega whispered as he slowly rotated her on his cock so she was facing him before picking her up and sitting down in the chair as they waited for his knot to shrink.

“You were so good for me” he cooed, continuing to whisper soft nothings into her ear as she leant against his chest.

476 notes · View notes

peeterparkr · 3 years

Text

perennial;tom holland|thirteen.

chapter thirteen: heleniums

↳ flower meaning: comfort.

chapter summary: ‘very Tom and y/n’

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: Cherry, angst, fluff if you squint, smut (?, idk if there was any it’d be after the *), this hurts, but...rollercoaster

word count: 12.3K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles

no social media

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Hi, I’m back, super hard chapter to write, honestly. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, happy new year.

There were, with certainty, and exactly, three things Tom had regretted the most from that night, which, had they been avoided, he would’ve not had this mess.

That night, not being y/n’s birthday, but the night before he slept with Cherry. It had led to the next day, and the next night, and to this mess.

Tom had been confused, that is to say, he can’t be blamed for being confused. What had been something very, very innocent had turned into his worst nightmare. The background on his head was the peculiar reasoning behind the big decision that led to his first regret.

The day before he slept with Cherry Tom had read the script. Not all of it, just part of it. Again, the part which had led to his broken heart. Tom regretted doing that, because the mind is such a dark place when it wants to be. Our minds are our biggest enemy, because who else knows what hurts the most than ourselves.

Because Tom knew that the words written on that script hadn’t come from nothing. It’s what bothered him the most, is that every single word written there was completely and utterly true.

He had been a monster.

He regretted that, but we already knew that.

He then had read over and over y/n’s last letter. Her telling him it was him, and no one else. Then why had she left? Why had he let her go? There was his mind telling him, being reasonable, telling him she’d left for the script, because she had. But then there was that one thought flying through his mind. She’d left and fall in love with Tim. She had once, why not twice? Y/N was vulnerable, and vulnerable hearts are easy to shape. Ghost haunting Tom’s mind, fearing he’d be buried deep in y/n’s mind. How much can a heart take? How many wounds until it finally dies.

A flower can only bloom when it’s watered.

He knew she’d end up forgetting him, that’s what the script said. But the letter said they’d be infinite. Would they? How many pieces were left out of the puzzle, making it unsolvable. Was she trying to get over him?

Did he have to move on? He’d said that. She’d said that. Because it had made no sense why she left so suddenly when he’d needed her the most, to take her home and just listen to her, like she was an old song. She’d left when Tom had needed her the most,when he needed to make sure that they were supposed to love each other, to make sure he was the one.

The second thing he’d regretted that night had been answering Cherry’s call, and accepting her offer to go out for a drink. He had been well aware of her flirting. And he’d give in because it felt like a cheap love , and he couldn’t afford for more at time, and it was easy, so unbelievable easy. Like she was giving in to him, without any ‘buts’. Without any built in walls, without any prejudice.

He would’ve never known that he was so stupid.

Tom had been lying when he said he hadn’t seen the next night coming. Because he’d made the decision the night before, at that one pub, with the warm beer that gave no entertainment, listening to a laugh that sounded like hers, some pair of eyes that if you tried hard enough, you could see hers. Someone so close, so near hear. And after a few more drinks, familiarity is what we all need. The hearts make the eyes see what we want to see. And if your mind is wild enough, he could pretend it was her.

The third thing he regretted from that night, it had been leaning over to kiss Cherry, thinking that the alcohol would blind him enough to make him believe her lips were y/n’s. But when it’s not hers, then you’ll never be satisfied.

He hadn’t been, but the lips had been welcoming. It had been him. He knew that. He’d fallen under the spell that Cherry was.

Cherry, honestly, was a dark omen with raving hope. Tom had been a victim. Because Cherry had known what she was doing.

But Cherry had also fallen under the lie that Tom was. Cherry, deep in her heart had known that y/n, her cousin, whom she barely knew, had something to do with Tom. She couldn’t map what, she knew they were enemies. Was there something else? He had shown up with flowers.

Y/N when asked by Cherry, had once said only a fool would fall for Tom.

And Cherry had been such a fool. Cherry, just like Tom, had gone through a heartbreak. An awful one, the one that makes you think that you’re not supposed to love. Cherry, had heard y/n say heartbreaks can be felt, and she agreed. Her ex girlfriend had broken up with her because she’d decided that Cherry just ‘wasn’t what she wanted’ Cherry wasn’t ‘enough to make her happy’.

‘Cherry, you’re a season, and I need a year.’

It hurts. Cherry had known about it, how she was like a flower, only blooming every now and then. Not all year long. Cherry, most people said, was someone who people used, for a night. She’d known it long enough. Though Cherry is now the villain in our story, she can’t be blamed. Hearts are never easy, and hearts are vulnerable.

And vulnerable hearts are easy to be shaped. Everyone thought Cherry was perfect, she’d hear it said, by other people, ‘oh, you’re the kind of girl that steals every glance in the room’, ‘you’re the one girl everyone wished they were’. Yet, she was never loved.

So when Tom, trying to search for something so familiar to the one he loved, he’d made Cherry believe that she could be loved.

She had tried not to, at first, but when Tom had kissed her that night, with those eyes he gave to y/n, but only with hopes of trying to find y/n there. And Tom hadn’t been disappointed, and he had kissed Cherry again and again.

And while Tom was trying to find what he was looking for, not finding it, Cherry had found the one thing she’d searched for, her entire life, someone who wasn’t getting tired, someone who asked for more.

Complicated.

Cherry had heard it then, how Tom had left. And she was left again with those thoughts in her mind, what had she done wrong?

James had come and told her he was forbidden territory, that Tom and y/n had a lot of story, that Cherry couldn’t go there. That she couldn’t go to Tom because he was forbidden. But how could he be? Her secret in a crowded room, how easily had she fallen for him, because he was oh, so easy to love.

She remember the night he’d kissed her, first silence, no patience. How desperate the kiss had been, and how the whole world had stopped, because he kissed her like he loved her.

He didn’t, but Cherry didn’t know that. Because it’s easier to believe that he wanted to take off her dress, to kiss her soul. It didn’t make sense, and she’d hidden under the lie that it’d be a rebound, a mutual agreement, but how hard had she tried to keep her hands to herself because she only wanted his hands to touch her.

And she’d dream about him, all night long. If he’d kissed her that way, it meant he had feelings, too, right?

What a fool Cherry had been, used as a ploy. He’d come the very next day, and there were his lips again, on her. So desperate for her.

But Tom knew that though he had tried to kiss her like she was y/n, she wasn’t. But who wouldn’t fall for someone who is kissing you like your the love of their life?

People can’t be replaced, we are all unique, and Tom had only realized it after Cherry’s hair was against his neck, after mistaking pleasure for passion, and after confusing lust with love.

Problem was Tom hadn’t told Cherry, not exactly. He’d said the wrong words.

Maybe Tom did regret a fourth thing, saying those words. “It’s the most similar thing that it’s to love, but one can’t pretend enough.”

Cherry hadn’t understood the meaning behind that sentence. She thought he meant he loved her, while he, actually told her it wasn’t enough to be love.

Then, gone. Gone.

And then, y/n’s birthday had come around, and he was there, it was her time, because y/n and Cherry aren’t so different. They both wanted a fairytale. She had, indisputably, and after been told a lie, she had so foolishly tried to look for Tom.

Love blinds us and makes us see what we want to see, and she hadn’t seen Tom and y/n. She’d seen y/n and Tim, and she’d seen Tom here and there, not with her. And she’d told her cousin, how she was deeply, madly in love with Tom and couldn’t get him out of his head.

James had said: “you’re drunk, Cherry, dear, you can’t be in love.”

Who was James to tell her her feelings were not hers? And she’d heard it again, from that one guy, Josh, ‘how she was the prettiest that night’, yet he’d kissed Emma. He had heard it from Tim, ‘you look stunning’, yet his eyes had been on y/n.

And she’d been rejected, just when she’d kissed Tom, how he’d run to y/n. Leaving Cherry, confused and heartbroken and not feeling enough, because though she’d given Tom everything, she still was not… enough.

It had been a rough night. To everyone, really. The moment y/n had left the club, it had seemed things had turned out to be worse than imagined.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” and that sort of questions had rained over Cherry. “Tom’s y/n’s boyfriend!”

“He is dating your cousin!”

“You’re a slut!”

Was she?

Maybe she was.

And she had reached for Tom, and she’d found him, right outside the bar, with a hand on his waist, and the other one pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes, tired, pale and sad.

“Tom-?” She’d said, with fear.

Tom had flinched hearing her voice.

Tom knew he was to blame for a lot of things.

But not this one. Not this particular one.

Sure, he had been angry at the statement Timothée had made but he hadn’t really known anything. As far as he could recall the events that had gone through quickly, he didn’t even remember when Cherry had approached him, honestly he was too drunk and too busy staring at y/n.

Cherry had said something to him, she wanted to talk. She said she really wanted to talk. He didn’t.

“Tom?” She’d asked, again.

“What?” He had snapped. “Can’t you--Can’t--Why did you do this?” He sounded desperate, angry, hurt, enraged.

“I… didn’t know-”

“You didn’t know?” He asked. “You didn’t know that I’m dating-Or was dating or whatever… you didn’t know that your cousin--- you didn’t know she’s the love of my life?”

“I didn’t,” she snapped.

James had walked over. “You knew.”

“I didn’t,” Cherry said, or she’d chosen not to acknowledge she did know. When you’re in love you can become the most stupid, selfish and stubborn you can be.

“Still why-would you do this?” Tom asked. “Fuck now-Now she’ll think-Fuck, I don’t even know what she thinks.”

Cherry watched him. She had fucked up, and judging by how everyone was coming out just to yell at her, and Tom.

Cherry had been drunk, honestly. Everyone had been, and maybe that had been the only courage she had needed. She’d seen Timothée approaching Tom, they were yelling at each other, Tim had pushed Tom, but Tom had easily pushed him off, harder. Yelling, cursing. James trying to separate them, were they fighting? Cherry couldn’t figure out whose fist had gone to whose face. Emma still asking why she’d done it. Sam asked about it.

Cherry was feeling sick, and she felt like she was about to vomit. Being asked about it, over and over and over. Why she’d done it, why had she been such a bad cousin, a slut, or whatever they were saying. How Emma kept yelling at her.

No, she wasn’t going to vomit, but Cherry wished that what had come out of her mouth had been that instead. “Because I love him!” Cherry had said.

And suddenly the chaos ceased. And then, Cherry knew, the blame was on Tom now. No one dares to question a woman in love. Because of course, if she was in love with him, it had been something Tom had done.

Tom hadn’t answered. He only looked at her as if asking her how she dared to be in love with him, as if he didn’t believe her. He had only cursed to himself, he was defeated.

He didn’t care for her, not right now. But he did feel guilty. Because Tom had been the one to listen to her heartache.

Cherry and Tom were not so different, either. How they both feared they were not right for the person you could love.

It’s stupid, to think that. But Tom didn’t know how to apologize to her, but honestly, he thought Cherry would get it. He hoped she did.

He had told her, how he had had his heart broken by someone who knew how to hurt him on his open wounds , and yet she hadn’t used the one weapon to create a new one.

Why hadnt Cherry connected the dots? Was it not too obvious that Tom’s heart belonged to y/n? Was it not expressed enough? Did his eyes stutter when seeing y/n?

Tom had only pushed Tim before getting into a car, James had gone with him.

“Are you going to kill me?” Tom had snapped.

“No,” James said. “I saw what happened.”

Tom only clenched his jaw, he was stressed, angry. “I didn’t—I swear I— I wasn’t—“

“I know.”

“And now she left—“

James nodded. “With Harry.”

Tom thought he had already erased his fears with Harry. There was that thought in his head, quietly still roaming around, loud enough but tender to be just a faint sound. Could y/n catch feelings for Harry? Because when one is vulnerable, the head can easily be molded, and shaped. He’d learned that with Cherry, he knew that’s why y/n fell in love with Tim and there was that possibility. What if this was just the only straw y/n needed?

And why was he even thinking about that? He’d broken her heart and there was no possible way of solving this, this had been the worst outcome from all the possible scenarios that could’ve gone down, this had been the one horrible ending to y/n’s birthday.

“Before you freak out,” James interrupted Tom’s thoughts as soon as they’d arrived to the flower shop, where Tom thought y/n would be. “It’s the best thing that could’ve happened to you.”

“She’s not here, fuck it,” Tom said, stressed out. Had she gone home? He ordered another car.

“Her leaving with Harry,” James said. “He’s the only one she opens up to.”

Tom sighed. “I don’t know,” he said, staring at his phone.

“Harry will be able to calm her, they are best friends and they haven’t-talked in a while,” James said.

“They have, they’ve texted,” Tom snapped, knowing damn well his brother had been in touch.

“They’re not going to fall in love,” James said.

Tom gulped down, “How do you know that? What if-what if she’s supposed-I-”

“Stop fucking sabotaging yourself.”

“I-”

“She loves you,” James said. “That’s the least fucking thing you should be worrying about, you broke her heart, she just bloody saw you kissing another woman who happens to be our own cousin, you realize that, right?”

“Yeah-yeah-But I didn’t-”

“I know, Tom, but she knows the background, it wasn’t the kiss, it’s what the kiss meant, y/n had been avoiding this long enough and the glass just broke down, alright?”

Tom only cracked his fingers, one by one, nervously listening to him. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did, so let’s-”

“Should I-call her?”

“That’s up to you,” James said. “Why are we even here?”

“I thought she’d be here,” Tom admitted. “The flowers calm her down,” he said. “I-I dunno, I-- she wouldn’t go back home-I mean to her place, because- or would she? If she did then--”

“No, because then she’d face Timothée and I’m sure Harry wouldn’t let her,” James said.

“And she wouldn’t go to my place-” Tom was shaking, but it wasn’t cold, yet he was freezing.

“You can ask Harry,” James suggested.

Tom knew, in his heart, that he shouldn’t call, as James had said, Y/N could only completely open with Harry, he knew that, when it came to Harry, y/n didn’t have any second guessing or she didn’t stop and think, she just blurted everything out, and maybe that’s what she needed, to let it out, calm down.

Besides, he knew that she wouldn’t answer if he dared to call.

James didn’t know what to tell him either, it’s not that he was on Tom’s side. James was always team y/n, but James was so bloody empathetic to Tom, they were best friends and honestly, he knew Tom didn’t mean any wrong. Besides, James had learned from Tom that he was not so bad for y/n, so similar in some ways, different enough to always have an argument but realize that they were both so incredibly similar that it was what bothered them when children, ‘how dare my enemy agree with me’, and Tom had a weak heart, not like y/n’s who could have multiple rocks thrown at her heart and she’d be fine, but Tom’s heart would break so easily, James also remembered Tom had said, a while ago, when younger, to him:“Y/N looks like the type of girl you never forget, you can’t get over her, never move on. Like that one heartbreak time can’t heal.”

How many years had gone by since y/n had broken Tom’s heart and he probably hadn’t healed?

And James had seen Tom, how incredibly anxious and worried he was about y/n’s birthday being perfect, and how he had, against his will, invited Timmy, because he knew that not inviting him would make y/n mad. And how he’d chosen every little aspect thinking of her.

James had underestimated Tom, and y/n. Y/N did seem to let go so easily when she was around Tom, probably because they’d seen each other’s worst and now they wanted to be the best versions of themselves.

James had seen that.

But Tom was so, so bloody scared of screwing up, and he kept being haunted by his actions. Tom was so sure he’d fuck up, but not this way. Not in a way that was, though partly, not entirely his fault.

“Or—what if you call her?” Said Tom, knowing she might answer him instead. With a sort of plan to take away the phone and try and talk to her with hopes of not being hung up.

James did, and y/n didn’t answer.

Tom did ask Harry, only to know if she was with him, and if they were safe. That’s all he needed to know for now.

He finally decided to go home, knowing that calling her was a big risk and that she wouldn’t answer and if she did what would he say?

James had asked Clark and Sam to find elsewhere to stay. James was anxious that Clark would get scared and run away from the mess his family and friends were.

James had tried to reach for y/n. But then he realized that a friend needed him that night.

“What am I supposed to say now?”

“That you’re sorry for starters, tell her the truth?” James suggested matter-of-factly.

“She’s going to think that I had feelings for Cherry,” Tom said.

“And she did have feelings for you,” James stated.

Tom scrunched his nose. “I didn’t know that, but is that-?”

“Your fault?” James shrugged. “Dunno. Depends.”

“I didn’t do anything thinking she’d fall in love,” he admitted. “I-I-I thought it was clear it was--She even said it herself,” Tom said. “This is a rebound, yes, not my proudest moment and I regret doing that but-”

James shrugged. “Honestly, Tom, you have to tell her the truth, that’s it.”

Tom sighed, eyes closed as he shook his head. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen-”

James only watched him.

“I’m-” Tom took a deep breath. “I… And here goes, I hurt her again, I’m just-How can I be so stupid to keep hurting her, how did I let this happen? I… can’t be what she wrote there, I was supposed to change or give some backstory or try and mend it. It’s like- We are not going to make it. And now I hurt wounds that hadn’t been healed, I don’t know what I’m saying, it’s like the more I’m talking the more I try to mend it the less I understand the more I hurt her.”

James kept quiet, knowing Tom needed to talk.

“How can I hurt her so much when I love her? And yet more plan wrecked and she’s going to tell me she wants me out of her life and I don’t know what’s different from last time?”

“That you want to solve it.”

“I always wanted to, yet I ended up hurting her again.”

Tom was in misery, all night, trying to find the right words he’d say. Guilt was killing him, and he saw something very familiar, he saw how Tom and y/n weren’t that James watched Tom, and he saw someone who really was trying. James wanted to call y/n, and he wanted to know how she was doing, but he knew that he’d get no answer from her. How was she doing?

Probably not better than Tom, who at some point had left James alone, to only remain quiet in his room. James was sure Tom was crying but he knew he didn’t want to be seen crying.

It was a long story, between Tom and y/n, and though James didn’t understand it, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to figure it out. What happened with them that they were so drawn to each other? Did the happiness really outshine the bad moments enough to forget it? Why did they love each other so much? Because James knew why he loved Clark, but Tom and y/n? Who were they when nobody was watching them.

Tom was never one to shut everyone out, Tom was never quiet so who was this Tom, thinking to himself, quietly, sadly. He’d never seen him like this.

James thought Tom was preparing for a heartbreak, one he would be guilted for. James also wanted to suggest he call her, but he didn’t know what was right with y/n. He felt guilty for not calling his sister, and he only texted Harry, who told her she was as fine as she could be.

The next morning, Tom had woken up-or maybe he was still awake from the night before, he probably hadn’t slept. James had heard him talk to Harry.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take a shower and I’ll go talk to her.”

Then Tom had called Sam, who wasn’t happy with any situation.

James had called Clark.

“I’m sorry you were in this mess,” he said.

Clarke sighed. “It’s alright, I mean--”

“How bad was it after I left?”

“Let’s say there was a--plot twist,” Clark said.

“Plot twist?”

“You’ll have to deal with later, but--”

Someone was knocking on the door.

“I’m sorry-- someone is here,” James said.

And there, he saw y/n, the most broken he’d ever seen her. He had expected her to cry and sink to the floor immediately. She didn’t.

And she had yelled and she was angry, desperate. He’d never seen her so decided before. Without any hesitation she rushed past James. The woman had enough anger and decision, so James feared she’d kill Tom.

“I’ve seen his fucking dick James, I don’t bloody care!” Y/N had burst into the bathroom, only to find a lonely and broke Tom that was trying to soothe his mind under the hot water, James had tried to stop her but she’d slammed the door shut.

“Y/N!” Tom could only say with surprise.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked, with anger as Tom turned the shower off and quickly reached for his towel. “No, seriously, what is wrong with you? And you didn’t call!” She yelled once again.

Tom could see how she was wearing the dress from last night, her makeup was very messy, and so was her hair, the princess that once stood on a dance floor was a broken girl with a bouquet of yellow flowers

“Y/N I’m—“He tried to speak as he walked out of the shower, covering himself with the towel, water still streaming down his body.

“You slept with her, Tom!” She yelled. “And here are your bloody yellow flowers!” She’d thrown them at him, sloppily. “And why—What are you going to do? Was it your plan again? Is this a prank? Like last time? Is that what you’re going to say that I’m not your type and that you’d never dare someone like me and that this was all a prank and I should’ve seen it coming?” Her voice was loud but sounded broken, trying so hard not to break.”Why—why didn’t you call?” She spoke quickly and loud.

“No, no, y/n, please calm down I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Tom said. This wasn’t how it wasn’t supposed to go. But honestly, Tom didn’t know it actually was supposed to go.

“Oh, that fixes everything!” She snapped.

“No, I-” Tom closed his eyes. “No, no, I’m sorry.”

“If you are—Please tell me it was not a prank please—and you didn’t—“She wasn’t speaking coherently. She couldn’t speak, for that matter, he could see her struggle as she was breaking down, trying to fight the tears from falling down. “Please, please tell me it wasn’t all a prank like you did after that club night-”

“No, y/n, y/n,” and he would have to follow James’ advice to remain calm, he approached her and gently took her hands. “No, I’m sorry—“

“Tell me—“

“It’s not a prank,” he said. “I love you, it’s not a prank this is not Rome.”

That’s what she needed to listen to.

She was still angry, but she leaned against the bathroom wall, defeated. She didn’t look at him. She caught her breath, slowly, looking up at the ceiling,

“Please, y/n, look at me, it was not a prank, I love you, it was a mistake, very—stupid mistake.”

“You kissed her.”

“I—didn’t,” Tom said. “Please, look at me.”

She did. Slowly looked up to see him, her eyes were surrounded by bags and they were puffy and red. She’d been crying all night.

“I’m sorry,” and he meant it.

She looked away, she seemed furious.

“Talk to me, please-”

.“You kissed—“

“I didn’t kiss her—She kissed me. I know, it doesn’t-But, please look at me, y/n, I’m—there’s a lot to talk but I didn’t kiss her. Please—look at me.”

She looked again “I’m looking at you but I can’t see you—“she sounded tired, but not from her lack of sleep, tired from him. “Why didn’t—why didn’t you call?” She repeated, she wasn’t stopping the tears now.

Tom felt so heartbroken only from watching her.“Would you’ve answered?” He asked as he tried, slowly to clean up her tears.

“You didn’t call,” she stated, voice breaking.

Tom had made a mistake by not calling, he knew that now.

“I know, I regret it now,” he admitted. “I—just didn’t know what I was supposed to say.”

“That you’re—“

“I am sorry, I know, you don’t believe how much I regret everything but you have to know that I didn’t kiss her last night, but I know being sorry isn’t enough.”

She seemed as if she had a million things to tell him but couldn’t come around to say them, the words shaking and fading as soon as she opened her mouth. She crossed her arms and looked away. “Please tell me she’s not here—” she spoke as if her words were stabbing her, hurting her. “I know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to have her here, but please tell me she isn’t.”

“What? Why would she?”

She glared, “dunno,she’s not at her mother’s.”

“You thought she’d be here?” Tom asked.

Y/n didn’t know how to answer. “I knew she wasn’t but had to make sure.”

She knew, at least. Tom thought.

“I’m sorry,” Tom said.

She didn’t say anything, but finally let the quiet tears slowly stream down her face, Tom couldn’t look her in the eye, not with this guilt.

He took a deep breath. “Look I need—I need to get dressed alright? I was taking a shower and I was going to look for you. Harry told me you’d be at the hotel.”

She looked away. “Yeah I’m not anymore I came here.”

“Yeah. I can see that.”

She only looked up at him.

“Why did you come?” He asked, only then noticing she was still wearing the necklace he’d given her.

“Because I—I don’t know—Because you didn’t call and I-”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and took a deep breath.

She only tried to avoid his gaze.

“I’m going to get dressed,” he said, calmly. “Uh-do you—want to take a shower too? Borrow some clothes? Or do you want to talk right now?”

“No—I guess—I need a shower.”

Soon enough she was in the shower and Tom was dressed, he bumped into James as he walked out of his room.

“She’s going to breakup with me,” Tom said. Because he knew she would, honestly he didn’t expect any less. He deserved that… But did he?

“I thought she was going to murder you,” James admitted, but judiging by Tom’s look, he regretted it right away. “Bad time to joke—” He cleared his throat. “Look, she came here okay? Knowing y/n, it’s a first, she is never the first to ask for something face to face, she usually writes a letter and—”

Tom sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“I’ll go out with Clark and Sam all day, I—look, you fucked up before but I know this—”

Tom squinted. “Why did she have to kiss me? Why did this all have to blow up before we could even talk-”

“Look I don’t know, I—no, I do know why she kissed you,” James stated. “And you know it too and you have to tell that to y/n.”

“How am I supposed to tell her that she is in love with me? She’ll freak out and say I’m in love with her.”

“Probably,” James agreed. “But you have to remain calm, even when she yells, listen to her she’s in her right.”

“Yeah.”

“And just to calm you down, she came here to you, not to Tim alright? That’s an advantage,” James reminded him.

Tom hadn’t thought about Tim, and that thought hadn’t gone to his head. But now, it would linger. Not that it mattered but-”How do I know he hasn’t called her?” Tom asked.

“Because she went to Harry and your brother wouldn’t let her do that not because of you but because it would’ve been stupid,” James stated.

“What do I say?”

“The truth, for starters and don’t—Dont bring the Tim thing up,” James said.

“Yeah, I know.”

James left, knowing a storm would be coming to that place.

Tom didn’t know what to do, or wait, how had they postponed the fight like this, not only today but since he’d arrived. How and why had she avoided it? And why hadn’t he told her? He should’ve.

She had to make sure that Cherry wasn’t there, she’d said it: I don’t think she is. Did she trust him? He hoped she did.

Tom wished for patience, how hard he had tried not to explode and burst back the Tim thing. It seemed like y/n had tried hard not to explode.

Though this was hard, Tom knew in his heart that this was both of them either trying to work it our or finally giving up completely. The latter option being so terrifying. Lost in his thoughts. But he knew that the stray and venomous thoughts were not going to get him anywhere, maybe a whirlwind.

Eventually, y/n had walked out, dressed with his clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, as she dried her hair with the towel. She seemed so calm. Terrifyingly calm.

“Thanks for--For the clothes,” were the only words she’d said.

Tom only watched her. “I’m sorry.”

“I know… I knew.” She knew? “I’m sorry I came in yelling like a crazy person,” she apologized.

“You’re in all your right,” he nodded.

“No, I’m not,” she sighed before walking over to sit beside,he only watched her.

“You knew,” Tom said. Knowing what her words from before meant.

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“Who--How did you--?”

She bit her lip, and shrugged. “I know you,” she admitted. “And she posted a picture, she--Posted several pictures of you guys together.”

“But you assumed-”

“No, I saw that one picture with you kissing her cheek, and I knew,” she gulped.

“How?”

“The way you looked at her?” Y/N’s voice was shattering, her eyes had began to water down. “I-”

“I don’t-”

“You looked at her the same way you looked at me, and-” She was tearing down, trying to avoid and ignore she was.

“I didn’t-”

“You did,” she gulped down.

He had, for that matter. But not for the reasons she thought.

“I slept with her,” he admitted. “But-”

“But?”

“But it didn’t mean anything.”

“She’s in love with you,” y/n stated. How did she know? How in this world? “It means something.”

“How-?”

She shrugged. “I happen to be an expert on knowing how it feels to love you and not being reciprocated.”

Tom took a deep breath.

“You’re not easy to love,” y/n said, standing up. “Contrary to popular belief and how easy it seems I do it, you’re not easy to love, you’re so…”She couldn’t finish her sentence. “So I could see her, last night, she looked like such a damn fool, and she-She’s an idiot, for falling for you, no one in their right mind would fall for you, guess it’s a family thing,” she poisoned, as she sat back on the bed, near the headstand, crossing her arms. “But--”

“I don’t have any feelings for her,” Tom said, still at the edge, not facing her.

“Yeah, I know, but it still is my cousin you decided to sleep with,” y/n said with venom. “You fucking slept with her and then you kiss her on my birthday right fucking in front of me.”

“She kissed me.”

“And then you let me go, you didn’t even explain anything you didn’t try to stop me, you just stood there…. and then you didn’t call and I can’t believe I let you break my heart again I can’t--” She was running out of breath, though he could hear her anger, her voice was calm. That was scared. “I don’t want to beg for your love, Tom, I don’t want to be broken again and I don’t want to say goodbye again.”

“I don’t want to-either.”

She glared at him. “How was it?”

“What?” Tom turned to see her.

“Was she good?”

Tom blinked. “I— don’t—understand.”

“Answer me, good? How many times did you-?”

“Just once,” Tom answered. He tried to crawl to her but she stood up, arms crossed.

“And how was it?” She asked with poison, her words stabbing Tom.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to answer. “I don’t even know I was thinking about you the whole time.”

“Oh,” she scoffed. “How refreshing, you were thinking of me while making love to my cousin,” she snaked.

“It was a mistake,” he said. “I didn’t-”

“Ah, yeah, you tripped and your dick fell into her,” she snapped. “A mistake.”

Tom heard it, he closed his eyes. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Sex has to mean something,” she said.

“No it doesn’t,” Tom snapped.

“It does.”

“Fine if it does it means I broke her heart because I did the one thing she hates about people,” Tom snapped. “I used her to try to get you out of my mind and it only-

She clicked her tongue. “Made it worse, buddy.”

He plopped on the bed stressed. “Can we please talk about this?”

“Well, go on, tell me, everything,” she pleaded, arms crossed.

“What?”

“What happened with her.”

“You want to know what happened with Cherry? Tom asked.

She nodded. “Don’t spare any detail. You said you wanted to talk.”

What would he tell her? The truth.

And so he did. So he told her, from the very first moment he met Cherry, how clueless she was. And how heartbroken he was but how Cherry, being clueless was the only damn thing he needed. Someone who didn’t judge him, someone who didn’t know any of the drama. Not about the script. Not about y/n and Tom. How Tom could take a breath, and how he found a friend that would ease his mind. How he had searched for y/n in every face but failed to do so. A distraction he needed, and that it had presented itself. How Cherry had been a friend, a friend that didn’t feel like anything more. How Tom did have some sort of feelings. Not love, but he cared for her.

How Cherry did flirt. How he didn’t. At first.

Y/N didn't show any reaction, still quiet. No yelling, no eyebrows furrowed, just listening. Cold staring.

But Tom continued, connecting the stories he’d already told her about how he missed her, and how much he wanted to call and how he always tried to not think about her. How he had been heartbroken, and how her most than anyone should understand how broken hearts leads us to do something stupid. But how it was because he missed her, how he’d gotten used to her lips, and how he missed waking up beside her. To the night he decided to kiss her.

“Why did you kiss her?” She finally interrupted. “The first time.”

“I thought— I—I would— I don’t know what I thought, I… No, I do know, I do know why I kissed her,” he sighed. “This is going to sound so stupid.”

“Try me.”

“I—well—It might make you feel worse.”

She took a deep breath. “Go on.”

“I—you left, y/n, to get over me,” he explained. “You—“

“What?”

“I—“ he looked over in his drawers. “You give me this letter and then you left— you said—“

“Yes I know, I meant every single word there��“

“And I was hurt okay? You left and you were living with Tim.”

“Is that why—?”

“No,” he said, “it wasnt—I just missed you so much—I felt—how you’re feeling right now.”

She finally snapped out of her calmness. “How I am—no, no, you don’t understand what I’m feeling,” she growled. “Not even half of it, you broke my heart and I—I” she stood up and walked around the room. “And this was the first time I was hoping—I thought you wouldn’t and then you just—I didn’t come here to get over you, it was never like that, I gave myself time to heal so I could love you without any hard feelings and without any—So I could love you completely but then—I knew it just from that one picture I knew you had slept with her, because the eyes—-They way you were fucking looking at her.”

“I know, It’s the way I look at you alright?”

“I know, I fucking know, don’t you think I was heartbroken?” She asked.

“I thought that if I looked at her that way eventually I would move one—“

She took a deep breath before asking, “and why did you want to move on?”

Because he thought she would, for starters. But he wouldn’t bring Tim up. No, he couldn’t

“I didn’t—I—I didn’t—I never felt anything, I—searched for you?” He continued.

She scoffed. “With my cousin Tom? Was that the most familiar thing?”

Yeah, he heard it. It was so stupid.

He sighed. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Well I hope you aren’t—You don’t get it, I was ready to—call you that day, the day I found out,” she gulped and sat back down, far from him not facing him, “I was doing better, and I wanted to call you so we could—try again and I remember going back to social media and I was—going to call you alright? See how you were doing,” she spoke quietly. “And I saw the picture and then I knew it—no one had to tell me, and then it was days and days going on and I tried to move on and the sky was just grey, no silver moon suns, I couldn’t sleep I couldn’t feel anything I just felt insignificant and like an idiot because—“

“I didn’t love her,” Tom said.

“It’s not only that Tom, whatever you did, whatever you said...whatever you—you made her fall for you,” y/n said. “Because you looked at her—You looked at her like you—looked at me and I—“

“No, I didn’t mean it,” Tom said before rushing over to her side, trying to reach for her hand. She snapped it away.

“Oh, and that fixes everything,” she rolled her eyes. “All good now, you slept with her but you didn’t mean it!” She stood up.

“I slept with her because I couldn’t call you,” he explained.

“You couldn’t hold your dick for five seconds?” She hissed.

“You—look I’m not trying to—You also slept with Tim,” he stated. Finally throwing the bomb at her.knowing he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t hold it anymore. She blinked, watching him. “No one told me,” Tom answered the question he knew was going through her mind. “No one had to, at first. I assumed you had, and then he confirmed it. But did you?”

“I did,” she said. Now the blame was not entirely on Tom. But he hadn’t brought it up because of that.

“I’m not trying to blame you for it,” Tom said. “This is not a war, y/n, I’m just—I am pretty sure the reason you slept with him isn’t as far as the reason as to why I slept with Cherry.”

She remained quiet.

“I slept with Cherry because I was lonely and I couldn’t find you, I thought that by pretending it was you, it would eventually be you but I was wrong because she’s not near you, and it’s not in her. It’s on me because I am deeply in love with you,” he explained. “My heart felt extremely lonely, and I thought that by pretending to love someone only for one night it would make it feel less pain, I was wrong, it hurt even more.”

“He told you,” she said.

“Last night yeah, but but but—I didn’t-“

She shut her eyes closed. “Is that why you—fucking kissed her?“

“I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me,” Tom reminded her. “This is not a war, y/n.”

“You keep saying she’s the one to kiss you, but I remember clearly that I told you a kiss is always asked, at least with a glance,” she recalled.

“I didn’t want to kiss her, and I’m sure you saw me push her off.”

Y/N didn’t say anything. She only paced around the room again, her hands crossed above her chest, barefoot and silent trails. Tom watched her, wanting to know what the hell was going through her mind. She always seemed to always have a thought, usually they were dreams untold and secrets waiting to be whispered. Not now. He knew her mind was slowly deciding whether or not to destroy each other.

Tom hoped they both had the same mentality. This is not a war, and it seemed to be like that.

“You’re saying,” she started. “That you didn’t want to kiss her even after Tim told you we slept together.”

“Yes.”

“You’re saying you didn’t do it to get back at me.”

“I didn’t do it because—“

“Because you felt guilty,” she ended his sentence but not with what he wanted to say.

“No, because I don’t want this to be another battle in a war where neither of us wants to win, because we both know it shouldn’t be a war.”

She stared at him, she wanted to believe him.

“I did sleep with him,” she stated. “Days after I knew you’d slept with Cherry,” she said.

Tom felt a punch right into his throat, knowing he would be unable to word out his pain.

“And I—he had been flirting, we both know he’s in love with me,” she sat beside Tom. “He usually knows how to mend my heart when it’s broken, and I am well aware of that, and—That’s what I needed, someone who would love me, because I felt like shit and he made me feel loved,” she gulped. “That’s the difference, you searched for someone you could love and I searched for someone who could love me.”

Neither of them said anything. Both of them assimilating, being careful enough of their words.

“It’s only fair to ask this question,” Tom said after a while.

Y/N only glanced.

“Was he good?” Tom questioned with poison, getting an eye roll from y/n.

“You see, the reason I asked that question wasn’t the same reason as why you’re asking it,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “What was your reason exactly?”

“I don’t want this to be a fight between us,” she continued.

“What is this, then?”

“It’s us against the problem, not you against me, Thomas,” she fumed.

He nodded, “are we finally on that page, then?”

Y/N didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know how to handle him, not that he had to be handled but the situation was tarnishing her heart. She had, however, learned well enough that this wasn’t supposed to be them fighting and fighting. She’d thought about it, and though she was enraged, she wanted to solve it. It wasn’t a matter of what, it was a matter of how. The incomprehensible thoughts in her head were roaring too loud for her taste, but her heart, though hurt, wanted to try to get through with this.

He had remained calm, too, so it didn’t matter for her.

“Well, I am,” she said. “Or-I don’t, I just don’t know-”

He watched her. “What do you want?”

“It’s not simple, Tom, I’m heartbroken but I understand it but then again, of all people it was my cousin, and I don’t-I just showed that I am still not over the whole prank thing.”

Tom looked away.

“And I don’t want to go over that, you know? We’ve grown, we’ve-Yes, we’ve broken each other’s hearts, yes, we were idiots, we know that, but we also had feelings for each other--You were my first crush, first kiss, first love, first broken heart, and I don’t know, my reason tells me to let go, but-”

“But your heart?”

“My heart doesn’t know, part of it wants to leave and just give up on everything because god knows I can’t have another heartbreak and the other half--very stupid half believes in us.”

“I believe in us.”

“I’m not sure I do, look at us,” she sighed. “And I’m angry and I’m-”

“May I just- we were not together while-”

“Don’t bring that up,” she quickly interrupted. “No, we weren’t together but--It’s--It’s my cousin! You know what, I’m leaving I can’t-” She headed to the door, but Tom quickly followed after.

“No, no, let’s talk about this, please,” he said, taking her hands trying to stop her.

She stopped and turn around. “What can we even talk about this, Tom? We slept with other people who-”

“We weren’t together,” he said. “You told me to move on-”

“I didn’t, Tom!” She retorted. “I didn’t, you were the one to say you wanted to see other people, you were the one to suggest moving on.”

“You left.”

“I didn’t leave to get away from you,” she said. “You know that, I knew I had to be away, from you, from Harry- and you-”

“You left with Tim.”

“No, I didn’t, besides, I didn’t--”

“Cherry means nothing,” he said.

“She meant enough to jeopardize us,” she stated.

He sighed. “I didn’t think there would be us again.”

Y/N stayed quiet. She knew what he meant. But somehow didn’t know if he meant it by then or if he meant it now. She was tired, though they hadn’t talked as much, it was… exhausting, draining, going over this yet again.

“I know—That’s why I had to go search for someone else’s love because I thought I didn’t have yours anymore,” she said.

“I-well,” she coughed. “I’m not-I don’t think you understand why I’m angry.”

“I think I do-”

“No, you don’t, it’s not-that it was her, though yes, she’s my cousin, you really… couldn’t have fucked up more when choosing a rebound,” she said. “It’s--the fact that you thought you could replace me, the fact that you wanted to move on so quickly and I’m not--It’s not the fact that I didn’t want to move on, it’s just that-- You thought she could be me, and--”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to-”

“No, you were,” she said, her eyes were tearing down and though he was trying to stop himself from crying, he let some tears fall down too, quietly.

“I was an idiot,” he said. “But I didn’t think I’d be replacing you--Only a fool would think you’re replaceable.”

She took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze. “I think that’s what I’ve been--What I’ve always tried to tell you, with… Timothée,” she said, no nicknames needed to be used. “It’s… though I… It’s never been him,” she said.

“I never used him to replace you, though he was a good distraction, and I needed to… feel… Not replaceable.” She crossed her arms. “However, I’m still pissed off it was my cousin.”

“Had it been anyone else—?”

“Don’t go there,” she warned. “It would’ve been just as bad considering the situation. It makes it worse, yes, but you—Looked at her the way you looked at me,” she emphasized.

He sighed.

“Yeah, it’s not the same,” she pointed out. “Though I know that had I slept with anyone else you wouldn’t have cared as much.”

Tom clenched his jaw but nodded defeated. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you want me to explain—?”

“No, I don't need any details, I know enough,” he ranted. “However—I can see you didn’t go to him.”

“I didn’t.” Y/N didn’t want to go over the details.

“I—have to be honest, kinda got into a fight with him last night,” Tom confessed.

“I know, Emma told me, and she told me he was okay, that you only pushed him away,” she explained. “I didn’t ask any further but I didn’t ask you because I knew you’d be okay.”

Tom stayed quiet, not knowing how to proceed.

“Can we get out of this one?” He asked.

“Dunno,” she admitted. “ I just know I still love you with every piece of my heart.”

“I love you, too,” he admitted quietly.

“I need a break,” She stated. Without any other warning.

Tom didn’t like the idea, she could tell as he closed his eyes and took her hands. “No, no please, I--If we take another break then it’ll be definitive and-”

“No I meant—a break from fighting I just—I have a headache I can’t,” she pushed his hands away and walked back. “I just-” She walked past him and headed to the kitchen. She hadn’t lied, she did have a headache, probably from the slight hangover and the lack of sleep, and added the stress and her heartache. It wasn’t her best ime.

Tom only followed after her, quietly watching as she poured herself a glass of water. It felt quiet. It was but it felt even more quiet. Y/N went through all the scenarios not sure which was the worst. They all hurt, some more than others. She wished she could erase every thought in her head.

Tom opened the fridge, there was still cake that remained from two nights before, when they were still better. He took it out, and without thinking about it, he took out two plates, serving each a slice. She gave him a silent thanks, and then, they both remained on opposite sides of the kitchen.

Though y/n usually found his hoodies warm, her skin was freezing. There had never been that much space between them though they were only feet apart. Because, though it was even what they’d done, they both knew that there was not much to do. Y/N would love to snap her fingers, hide all her pain and kiss him. To assure him that she loved him as much, wondering if their broken pieces of love was enough.

“Where’s James?” Y/N asked, hating the sound of the cutlery hitting the plates.

Tom looked up, “He left, he’d spend the day with Clark and Sam.”

“So he’s on your side,” y/n pointed out. “Though there’s not really a side here.”

“He’s not on my side.”

She shrugged. “He said you had an awful night.”

“I did but, so did you.”

“Yeah.”

He watched her. “In any case my brother is on your side.”

She looked down at the cake. “He is.”

Tom let out a dry chuckle. “Hey, I thought there were no sides.”

“No, but he is on my side,” she said.

Tom only scoffed.

“I feel sorry for him actually, I think he was just leaving to go home to sleep and I made him stay up all night with me,” she admitted.

“Yeah but it’s you so he doesn’t mind,” Tom said.

She shrugged. “Emma kissed Josh,” she mentioned.

“She did?” Tom blinked. “Wow, that must have hurt him.”

Y/N only watched him with irony.

“I mean,” Tom closed his eyes.

“No, I know, but yeah, he was,” y/n commented. “I feel bad, I crushed his m&m’s.”

He chuckled. “What?”

“I-well, we had some m&m’s and I… crushed them,” she admitted with a tired, half smile.

“Why?”

“I was having a breakdown alright?” She chuckled. “And he went all ‘I wanted m&m’s”

Tom took a deep breath. “Should get him some.”

She gulped and saw Tom hadn’t eaten anything either, they were just pushing around the cake.

Tom watched her, too, still noticing how she hadn’t taken off the ballerina hanging from her neck, and maybe it was the only sign he needed, he left the plate on the kitchen island and walked over, standing right beside her, leaning against the counter. Their arms were against each other’s, and eventually her head fell against him. He didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around her, she gave in to his touch, slowly and then hugged him back. Snuggling to get some kind of warmth.

“You looked pretty last night,” he pointed out.

She crooked into his neck. “You mentioned it.”

Tom glanced down. “I—yeah, I did.”

Quiet again. He took a deep breath, and held her close again, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Do you hate me?” He asked.

“No, that’s the weird thing,” she said, letting him go and taking her spot back beside him. “I can’t hate you.”

He grimaced.

“Being angry doesn’t make me love you any less,” she said. “Do you hate me?”

“No. I could never. I love you.”

She bit her lip. “Are we really--?”

He turned to her. “What?”

“Or are we just being stubborn enough to not want to give up?” She asked. “I… don’t know.”

“I don’t want to lose you and the thought of it scares me enough,” he gulped. “And I… Before I run out of time to say the things I want to, I just need you to know that I’d choose you, though there are no other options, it all comes back to you.”

Her eyes brightened up, just slightly. “It’s hard, Tom, I don’t know, but I don’t want to give up, but-”

“I know,” Tom looked at her.

It was so unbelievably hard. What if this was really their last time, that’s what they were both thinking but neither had the courage to ask it out loud. Love is so cruel.

“Yet after everything, I’ve never loved anyone like I’ve loved you,” y/n said, mostly to herself. “And I am sorry I left in the first place.”

“No, you had to, we had to…” He sighed. “We both made questionable things.”

She didn’t want to break up with him. She didn’t want her days to run out of breath again, to see the streets full of garbage and she didn’t want to water any flowers that he hadn’t given her. And she wondered if they’d dare to call it off yet again life would find a way to bring them back together.

“I don’t want to go back to… that feeling, when we were apart,” she finally said it out loud. She wouldn’t regret saying it, right? “Nightless and sunless days, and how time never stopped or it never kept going, it was just eternal… numbness.”

Tom blinked, watching her.

“But I also,” she sighed. “I don’t want this pain.”

“Were you expecting it?”

“What?”

“The heartbreak?”

“I wasn’t, maybe that’s why it hit that hard… I guess I… Maybe I did, I just postponed it, thought that if I ignored it for long enough it would disappear.”

“What will happen, then?”

“I don’t know, these are relentless times, for now, try and haunt for reasons to make me believe I am still alive,” she gulped. “It sounds so dramatic but last night I just…” She felt that pain across her chest again. “I thought I had stopped breathing I…And it wasn’t the kiss really.”

“What was it?”

“The fact I remembered you had slept with her,” she said. “And that picture—“

He bit his lip, “I didn’t… You are the love of my life.”

She chuckled softly to herself. “See? People only say that when they’re apologizing.”

He sighed. “But-”

“But you are mine, too,” she admitted. “Better or for worse.”

She didn’t know where he had gotten the courage to do it, but he had finally leaned over to kiss her. And it wasn’t idyllic, it wasn’t a happy kiss, but it was the reminder they needed, as if the kiss was only to remind why it was worth trying again. Y/N knew she was being an idiot, honestly.

But only another fool would stop kissing him, and so she didn’t stop, because she knew this could be the last time. Tom probably thought so, too. Knowing about a last kiss can make it last longer and can make them both never letting go. Y/N just needed one last reminder than though her heart was aching and it had finally been ripped apart, she still had to believe that he loved her. Because he’d said it, right? And he was proving it to her with each kiss, caressing her cheeks, cupping her face, so delicately and so passionately.

He didn’t want to let go, either. His hands went to her waist, pulling her as close as he could. Their lips were going so, very slowly. He pulled away once, only for her to keep kissing his chin, cheeks and finally his lips, so slowly, her arms around his neck. Neither of them were desperate, each stroke was measured, taking their time. As if they were dawdling and postponing the thoughts in their minds. Soothing their most probable goodbye.

Y/N kissed him as if they were going to be infinite. As if no matter what would happen, they’d always be there. The kissing started to seem careless at some point, as if it didn’t matter how they were kissing anymore, it just mattered to have their lips connected, getting sloppier as his hands travelled under her-his sweatshirt to touch her skin, so cold. His hands landed on her waist.

“You’re cold,” he pointed out in between kisses.

She only pulled away, as if only then she realized what they were doing. He didn’t stop, his lips kept trailing its way all over her face, small, slow and soft kisses sweet enough for her to close her eyes. Gentle pecks, trying to gently cover each and every spot on her face. Y/n knew Tom had never been good with his words, he was more of actions, always being impulsive, and this showed it, his tender lips against her skin was his way of apologizing, of making her feel loved.

However she had to back away. She had to be rational, she couldn’t let him just kiss her and forget about everything.

She did back away. Because her mind couldn’t stop. It kept going back to him. To Cherry. And even to Tim. The latter being as if asking why she had done it herself.

And she only tried to untangle herself from his grasp, he didn’t force it. He understood as she slowly walked her way back to his room. A place where she felt safer than in the kitchen. Not sure why.

He stopped her mid-halfway, his chocolate eyes begging her again, pleading for an apology. Y/n couldn’t help it, his eyes were her biggest addiction. And so she gave in to him again, because though she loved using words and she knew it was her most powerful weapon, this was no battle, and so she’d kiss him to speak her truth.

He slowly pressed her against the wall, his fingers traced her figure, sides, top and bottom, gently as if trying to memorize her shape, but as if his fingers already knew the path. Her breath halted as his lips brushed against her neck, soothing her cold body. He pressed his whole body against hers, and his hands found their way back inside her hoodie, fingers firmly pressing against her waist, threading lightly. She felt like they could be infinite if they tried to, if they wanted to. And just for that moment as his lips were finding their way back to hers, she forgot about her pain.

His lips were meant to be with hers. There was no other way to say it.

Somehow he managed to get her to his room, she was uncertain if she should keep kissing him. But there's something about each kiss that made them both not want to stop. Y/N had closed the door, though, Y/N felt like this was the last time. Did he think it was too and was that why he was being so delicate?

Pining for each other as he gently laid her down, he looked at her the way someone looked at the sky at night, as if he had first seen the stars for the very first time and was wondered by her. They were sharing a secret, they both knew.

Desire was beyond his eyes as his hand travelled from her covered ankle, shriveling through her legs up all the way to her covered chest. She longed for his skin to be once against hers. But he was taking his time, trying to make sure she knew she was the only one he wanted to kiss. He then proceeded to take the same path with his lips as if he had meticulously painted it before. Placing soft pecks or running his lips against the covered skin. Y/N closed her eyes, as an inescapable soothing pleasure washed her, not lust, his gentle poke sprinkling her with delight.

He finally glanced up to her, his thumb gently rubbing circles on her cheek, his eyes linking with her, his eyelashes going up and down, pouring directly at her lips, her eyes.

“I love you,” he stated, not expecting an answer back, as if it was merely an observation he was making to himself. One of those thoughts that escapes the mouth and dares to be said out loud.

“I love you,” he said again, now less as an observation but as a reminder to him, as if he was scolding himself.

Her hands went to his face, brushing his cheeks. She wanted to say it back, too, but something stopped her.

But she was thinking about it, she knew that. She felt it.

But her heart didn’t want her to say it, as if saying it would be a sin. Why was she letting him kiss her? She could stop him.

She didn’t want to stop him, that is. But her mind was so loud she could barely focus, and she didn’t have to focus.

But then again, he was part of her own skin, her faith, her—everything. And though she knew this could be a mistake, it could be the last time and she wanted to make it last. Something to remember because they didn’t have anything to cling to.

She waited for him, like the moon waits for the night, as his thumb then caressed her lips, preparing them only to tamper them with his. It was no secret that each kiss he gave her was unique but he had kissed her like never before.

Though it was so familiar, the way she knew what he was going to do next as his hands went down to toy with the hem of her hoodie, shyly asking for permission just to go beneath it. But slowly he was pulling it up, with her help and then proceeded to take off his. Though slow they were both desperate to be against each other’s skin, the clothes burdened them and they both slowly decided to take them off, they looked better on the floor anyway.

Y/N didn’t feel cold anymore though she was bare, only with her underwear as Tom repeated what he’d done before, kissing his way from her thighs to her neck, burying himself there. She tried to turn him around so she could kiss him just as fine but he didn’t let her, his hand searched for hers as he linked them.

She finally managed to push and roll him, now it was she’d time to memorize his own body, her fingers tickled him as she sat on top of him to watch him, they gently brushed against his stomach, his chest, barely even touching, just a tender grasp. His hands landed on her waist as he watched her, her hands exploring his body, all the way to his arms, he only gulped watching her as she felt the bulge grow beneath her, she hummed a chuckled before bending down to get his lips back to hers, delayed movements as she grinded against him, his hands went down to cup her ass, helping her rock and he bucked his hips to her.

They had absolutely no hurry though their bodies were indicating the exact opposite, hiding their gentle moan against each kiss.

“I love you,” she finally had whispered to him, but it sounded more like a goodbye that Tom didn’t want to hear yet.

With his hands now going to her back, he turned her around, him on top as he reached to the nearest drawer.

The unspoken words they both hid were agonizing but they knew they had to be kept unspoken.

For now, at least.

As he opened the drawer y/n could see the inside of it. She caught a glimpse of the letter she’d given him. But he finally found the condom and wrapped it on the hard that his boxers had been no help on hiding.

Y/N only watched him position himself as he then looked up asking for a sort of permission, she only bit her lip as she tuck her hands behind her and finally took off her bra, he licked his lips and tooka deep breath, staring at the ballerina necklace in between each breast, he teased her with the tip and she arched her back.

She bit her bottom lip, he slowly inserted into her, she let out a gasp with fascination as he filled her up, her hands landed on his back bringing him to her, nails digging crescent moons on him, he closed his eyes, throwing his head back.

He draped her breasts with his hands before slowly rocking against her, their breaths fanning against the other, but it lingered and she wrapped her legs against him, toes curling with each very move as she bucked herself against him, not holding back any moan and now as he sloppily tried to kiss her, not getting it and just lazily pecking her chin, her neck, sucking gently. Hands gliding up and down. She managed to get a grip of him as she bit his lower lip, so intoxicated by each other it’s almost pathetic.

And their horrible thoughts had finally ceased—for a bit because they only needed each other, knowing that though what had happened had angered them, they belonged to each other, tangled into one, with sloppy kisses and messy movements, hearing their moaning as if they were a melody they could never get tired of. Soft grunts, struggling to keep any other kind of thought as they’re washed with pleasure.

Thrust after thrust, lackadaisical at points where they’re not even caring, finger pressed to each other, vibrating each time, impossible for y/n to keep still as he drove in each time deeper. Hands still gentle but he is burning intensely against her, her irregular movements against his hip drive her close to the edge.

He even had to clench to the headboard to get a steadier rhythm, but his other hand deliberately made sure that no part of her body remained untouched. The friction on each movement made y/n moan his name breathily.

Tom groaned at his name and went in deeper, saying her name, in a faint whisper, fearing he’d run out of chances to say it again, and then his tongue connected with her flesh.

“I can’t lose you,” he confessed breathily, tainted with love, finally saying what they’d both been thinking the whole time, but proud enough and—probably horny enough not to say it.

The only response she can give him is a truthful “I love you, so much.” Because there was nothing more to it. She wasn’t sure if they were going to lose each other. “I don’t want to lose you,” she sentenced. Because that was another fact.

Somehow that makes them go faster and more desperate, his hand stretching to go over where he needs him to be. Gasps, groans, grunts and moans combined with other words of praise to each other, senseless confessions of love that are enough to keep them going.

Y/N didn't even realize with what push she finally reached her high, but with pleasure he kept going as she had let out a bright moan that had perfectly spelled his name. He followed after not so long, crashing against her one last time before he had to stop and not twitch against her, not pulling out as he plopped above her. Chests shimmering with sweat as they’re synchronizing their breathing, halt panting as she finds a hand through his hair, curling up with sweat. He finally pulled out and plopped right beside her.

It gave her time to think then, right beside each other, quietly hearing each other breathing, covered in each other sweat. He pulled her close to him as her hand landed on his chest. She kept her lips pressed against him still, and his own lips were pecking her forehead.

Neither of them wanted to say anything because they both knew that talking would lead to somewhere where they didn’t want to go. Because talking had been all they've done before that and there had been no “I love you”s and there was no “I don’t want to lose you.” Talking meant they did want to lose each other and talking meant they still were angry.

But they had to. And y/n was there, confused as how easily she gave up to him, hours ago she was crying and yelling, and her heart still ached but she was still sure she couldn’t keep herself from him. Plus, there was the fact he was directing her script. The one film she had dreamed of and now was a nightmare. What was she supposed to do?

End the relationship?

Weren’t they supposed to be infinite?

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

tag list @spidxrparkxr @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @happywolves81 @happywolves81 @applenter @silver-winter-wolf @applenter @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @nevertoofarfromivar @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott. @tomzfrog @dark-infernal-instruments @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl @tomzfrog @xapham @xapham @xapham @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter @the-lost-fairy-tale @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @lala-florez @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25 @cassindeansass @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespideyy @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams @sanniegirl1214 @softholand @softholand @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @griff1ndor @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @itstaskeen @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @officiallyunofficialperson @mannien @whitewolfandthefox @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter @bizzlepotter @localfangirlx @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @dangerousluv1 @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @emjaywrites @infamousmany @jungeunave @forevermore-euphoria @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @desir-ae @desir-ae @desir-ae @peterporkpie @peterporkpie @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @quackeroos @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @hollandcreep @milly7110 @hollandcreep @rebekkah4766 @farfromtommy @rubberducky-jrr @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster @thatdamjoke @annathesillyfriend @l0ove-sick-blues @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @bookworm06 @bookworm06 @lala-florez @lala-florez @chaoticpete @shezzalocked @peeterparkr @chaoticpete @lowkey-love-loki @cosmichollands-blog @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na jj @saintlavrents @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @simple-things @sip-portteam @herondale-snow-carstairs @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt @hollandstanevans @farfromtommy @farfromtommy @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @harryssuckz @xstarbae @xstarbae @xstarbae @peterbparkerrwrites @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @emyla3305 @abbiefangirls247 @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbmineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @geminiparkers@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @maybecharming @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @viagracex @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive @aleyabee @aleyabee @lovewolfspirit @viagracex @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind @redhoodparker @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you @xxpeachyxo @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper @morbiddanvers @runaway3 @runaway3 @runaway3 @lu-morningstar @th0ttie4tommy @riasaurusrex @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip @readheadwriter @geesquariid @noxceleste @noxceleste @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything @peterporkpie @bookworm06 @panicattheeverywherekid @imthefloor @ohmyquackson @seaveyheartful @wangtan-boys @obiwanownsmyass @sadisticfries @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08 @lovemarvelousfics @tomzfrog @calsthomas @thearchersupremacy @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever @just-kickin-ass @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @samaratheweirdo @fr3akingphantrash @i-love-superhero @mandeeleebeebee @captainamirica @dramaticdiva @halparkebitch

#perennial #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland and you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland ff #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland and y/n #tom holland reader #tom holland au #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland story #tom holland series

196 notes · View notes