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traveler-at-heart · 5 months

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The Tooth Fairy

Summary: Your daughter gets a generous visit.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Sorry for the weird format, I’m on my phone. Also, fun game, drink everytime you find the word fairy in this fic 🧚

“Mom!”

Your daughhter’s scream puts you immediately on edge.

Her voice is quivering, as if she’s not sure she should be crying over what’s happening.

“What is it, sweetie?” you kneel next to her on the playground, mentally counting all her fingers and checking for injuries. You have to stay calm for her sake.

“My tooth fell off” Anya says, showing it to you. “Does this mean that I can’t eat chocolate anymore?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine” you pick her up and carry her to the park bench. “These are called baby teeth. They’ll fall off and then you’ll get your new ones. And those are for good.”

“Promise?”

“Well, yes. Unless you eat too much chocolate. Then you’ll get cavities”

Anya keeps looking at the tooth in her hand and then offers it to you. Closing one eye, you examine it as if it were a diamond.

“The tooth fairy is gonna be real happy with this one”

“There’s a fairy?” Anya perks up and you smile.

“Oh, yes. You have to leave it under your pillow with a small note and then they’ll pick it up. Leave you a dollar or two if they think it’s a good tooth”

“I wanna write the note, can we go home now?”

“Yes, sweetie” you carry her, relieved now that Anya seems happier.

—-

It’s not an easy task, but you persuade Anya to wait for her other mom to write the note. You’re sure Natasha wouldn’t wanna miss it.

After all, this is the same woman that almost cried when she was away on a mission and your daughter sneezed for the first time.

“I’m home” you hear the door open and close. Anya smiles, eager to tell her mom about the highlight of the day.

“Mama” she jumps to her arms, wavy red hair flying as Natasha catches her.

“Someone is very happy to see me”

“I’m happy to see you too” you say, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss.

“Then why aren’t you jumping into my arms?”

“Mama, I’m going to meet the tooth fairy!” Anya interrupts you, pulling her tooth from the pocket of her pants.

“Your first tooth? And I missed it?”

Damn it, she’s gonna cry again. You can’t have that.

“Baby, you didn’t miss it. Anya still has to write a letter. She’s been waiting for you”

“Yeah, come on” Anya bounces on her arms, encouraging Natasha to go to the living room.

“I’ll work on dinner while you two do that, ok?” you kiss Natasha’s cheek and let her enjoy the time with Anya.

From your spot on the kitchen, you can hear Anya asking all sorts of questions about the fairy lore.

She’s a smart kid, so all Natasha does is hand her the crayons she requests. Anya falls silent, and then begins to write the letter.

“All done?” your wife says and Anya covers the sheet of paper with her tiny hands.

“This is a secret letter”

Natasha looks at you, both struggling to hold your smiles.

“Dinner’s ready” you announce, serving pasta.

Anya giggles when the spaguetti goes through the whole her tooth left.

“Baby, don’t play with your food like that” you scold. Then you turn to Natasha for support, only to find her creating a spaguetti mustache that leaves her face full of sauce. “Honestly, Natalia”

“Mama is in trouble” Anya laughs.

“She’s doing the dishes, that’s for sure” you agree.

After dinner, Natasha prepares a bath for Anya while you clean the kitchen. You both know you’re too obsessive to leave the cleaning to anyone else.

You go to the study to write a small thank you note for Anya from the tooth fairy. You even add some glitter for extra flare.

Tucking it in the back of your pocket, you walk into your daughter’s room to wish her goodnight.

“Is it under your pillow?” you check and she nods, yawning.

“I wanna wait for them”

“Oh, the fairy only shows up when you’re asleep, darling. Like Santa”

“Are they friends?” Anya says, quickly falling asleep.

“Yeah, you could say they’re practically the same person” Natasha whispers and you nudge her with your elbow. Anya is already asleep, so it doesn’t really matter if she heard that last part.

Quietly, you take the letter from under her bed and place yours instead.

“Why are your hands all shiny?” Natasha asks as you’re getting ready for bed.

“Welll, I am a fairy, baby. Haven’t you heard?” you tap the tip of her nose, leaving some glitter on it.

“I’m happy I was here for this” Natasha says against your shoulder as you cuddle.

“Me too” you say, your eyelids heavy. “Oh, crap. I forgot to leave the money under Anya’s pillow”

“That’s ok, I’ll do it”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. You’re the stealthy spy here” you smile when Natasha kisses your neck and leaves the bed. You’re so tired you fall asleep before she comes back.

—

The smell of coffee wakes you up.

Coffee and pancakes. Stretching, you get out of bed, feeling relaxed and happy.

“Hey, baby” you greet your wife, admiring her toned arm muscles accentuated by the white tank top.

“Morning, detka” she smiles, adding more pancakes to the plate next to the stove. “Breakfast is ready”

“I’m hungry for other things” you lift the edge of her tank top, scratching Natasha’s abs with your nails. She follows your lead, tilting her head and parting her lips to let your tongue explore her mouth.

“Mom, mama!” Anya says, running out of her room. You sigh against Natasha’s lips and step away. “They were here! I woke up and there was a letter with some glitter”

“That’s awesome, sweetie” you smile, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You turn to your daughter as you take a sip.

“And look! She left me this!”

Anya waves a hundred dollar bill in front of you, making you choke on your coffee.

“Wow, that fairy won the lottery since the last time I saw her” you catch your breath.

“Is this enough to buy a pony?”

“No, darling. Go set the table, I’ll bring you some juice and pancakes, ok?”

“Can I watch tv while having breakfast?”

“Fine” Natasha answers and you wait for your daughter to be out of earshot to talk to her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, baby, did you leave all that money for Anya?”

“Yes, I didn’t know how much to put and you were asleep”

“Ok, for future reference, five bucks is more than fine” you smile, placing your hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry” she looks defeated and you try to cheer her up.

“Don’t be, it’s fine. We’ll use the savings we have for the rest of the teeh and then send her to community college”

“Stop!” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Come on, it’s ok” you kiss her softly. “We’ll tell her that the fairy had to pay her mortgage and is broke. I’ll even add less glitter on the next letter”

“You’re taking this glitter thing too seriously”

“Well, we have to rely on Alexei to play Santa. At least I get to have some fun with this”

—

Later that day, as your friends get together for a barbecue, Anya shows everyone the place where her tooth once was; luckily, she left the money at home.

That doesn’t stop Billy and Tommy from finding out. Pretty soon, they’re asking their mom about the tooth fairy and if there’s a special deal for twins.

“They left 100 dollars for Anya” Billy shouts and everyone falls silent.

“Oh, wow. Maybe the fairy can visit me as well” Sam smiles. You kick him under the table.

Unfortunately for Natasha, you have to explain everything when Wanda convinces the twins to go back to play.

“Don’t sweat it, Red. Everything’s so expensive nowadays, it’s only fair Anya starts saving now”

“Oh, you’re one to talk” Pepper points at Tony. “He left a blank check under Morgan’s pillow the first time she lost a tooth”

Everyone laughs at that, Tony adjusting in his seat.

“Would you like to adopt me?” Sam asks after a minute.

—

“I got the door” you whisper. Natasha is carrying Anya to her room. It was a fun afternoon of playing with friends and then doing the math on how many plushies she could get with all that money.

She’s fast asleep, and you wait by the door as Natasha tucks her in.

“You ok?” you want to double check, knowing she can be insecure about motherhood.

“I just wish I knew everything”

“Well, so do I. I wish I knew how to stay calm. Remember last week when she hurt her hand with the stove? I thought I was going to throw up and you handled it while I panicked”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s a lot, Tasha. We love you. And we need you” you kiss her softly and she smiles against your lips.

“Wanna read the letter?” you offer once you’re settled in bed. Your wife nods and you take it out of your nighstand. “Dear Miss Fairy - very formal. This is my tooth, it felll off while I was playing. Mom told me you take them and leave some money. My Mama helped me draw this. I love my moms and I want to buy them ice cream and chocolate with the money you give me. Hugs, Anya Romanoff”

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You both are” Natasha says as you cuddle, kissing her neck.

“We love you”

“So, what do we do next time?”

“We tell her the fairy is getting heer a car at 16 and hopefully she’ll forget about it by then” you smile, confident.

Of course, she doesn’t.

#natasha romanoflf x you #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader

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yandere-kokeshi · 10 months

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Could i please request a Platonic Yandere Peter B. Parker with a reader from a different universe (maybe in their original universe, he's their biodad?)

Warnings: platonic-yandere behavior

A/N: we love Peter b. Parker. Ty for requesting! Hope you enjoy :]

He’s shocked, to say the least. He already has his daughter tangled around him as he works with Miguel and the other Spidermen. Plus, taking care of miles is another job. But when Miguel told him about a new Spider-Person, he was intrigued.

But, when he saw you appear at the quarters all sad and lit up when you saw him, though getting disappointed a second later when you saw him holding Mayday, it shattered his heart. Of course, having spider senses and the ability to be understanding, he approached you; feeling bad about your reaction. Furthermore researching and begging Miguel to see what happened in your universe, it made him sad to see you now-distant.

Regardless of what happened in your universe, he’s now always ‘bothering’ you; acting like the dad he once was in your universe. He’s taking you under his wing as he did with Miles. Whatever happened, he’s hoping he can fix it with you, wanting to get to know you better as you did with him in your universe.

You’re welcome into his home at any time, he always makes sure to make extra plates during breakfast and dinner, even if you said the day before you weren’t coming/or had plans.

Peter constantly asks if you have the designed bracelets to let you travel through universes; making you promise you’ll use them safely and appropriately.

And if you don’t? Well, he won’t be mad. Sure, he’s disappointed. But he’s proud that you did something you are also proud of. He’ll even state that he will take the blame if Miguel shows up at the front door.

The whole family adores you. Mayday loves you just as much as her dad. She loves clinging onto you, planting herself onto your head, and playing with your hair (if you’re fine with it!) and sometimes cries whenever she doesn’t see you. MJ always welcomes you with wide and loving arms whenever you come to visit; hugging you tightly when you come through the portal.

Seeing Peter and Mayday happy to see you warms her heart, which escalates to her opening up to you - treating you like one of her own.

Peter always goes out of his way to get things you enjoy, regardless of your whining of ‘I don’t need more things’. If he sees something in a shop, even in the window, he sprints out with more gifts he was supposed to buy and gives them to you the next time he sees you - making sure to add the Mayday participated in the wrapping paper!

He’s quite a chill parent considering he’s taking care of a baby and a teenager. While he’s gonna be watching out for you, making sure you don’t overdo your strength and aren’t damaging stuff; he would hate to get yelled at Miguel for things that are broken.

Peter always makes sure you feel loved, often giving you hugs and affection that you may feel uncertain about. He always reaches out, asking if he can do anything to help you and that you know he’s here to support you.

Though, Peter is quite a touchy person and if you prefer not to be touched and rather be shown affection through gifts, acts of service, or words, he’s happier to do that as his goal is to make sure you feel comfortable and safe in his presence.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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14buddy22 · 11 months

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How You Get The Girl

Part 1: You’re Losing Me / Masterlist

AARON HOTCHNER REDEMPTION ARC WC: 2.9K

Based off “How You Get the Girl” by T.Swifttttt

6 months.

That’s how long you’ve been without Aaron and Jack in your life. It was the worst. You knew he was happier without you. You weren’t holding him back anymore.

But you weren’t happy. You thought you would be happy without Aaron and Jack. But losing them was the worst thing to happen to you. You gave Aaron the ultimatum because you wanted to be happy, you wanted him to be happy, but it came back to hurt you.

The few dates you went on with the owner of the bar were wonderful, but he just wasn’t Aaron. Everything the guy did, you only thought about how Aaron would’ve done it. When you told him you weren’t ready for a relationship, he understood. He just asked that you told Aaron how you felt.

But you couldn’t. How could you just “waltz” into Aaron and Jack’s life again. Jack could never forgive you. You had been in his life for almost 4 years, and you left. You were a mom to him and you left him.

You had seen him one time, on the playground. You were going to walk over and say hi but then you saw Rossi and Aaron and decided to go against it. You couldn’t just show back up in their lives, especially after leaving them.

You missed Jack dearly. He was just a child. You always wanted to be a mom. Being a mom to him for 3 and a half years was the best thing ever. You and him had a special bond, and you were a complete asshole because you let your “happiness” get in the way of that. You were never happy after you lost Aaron and Jack.

While you missed the early morning breakfasts, the spontaneous dance sessions, the rainy movie days, and everything else with Jack, you’ll never forgive yourself for not staying, for not fighting harder for you and Aaron. Something had to give in the relationship, you had just wished that it wasn’t you.

You wished you had given Aaron a different ultimatum. Maybe you should have tried and compromised. But you didn’t, that’s on you. This pain your dealing with is going to take forever to get over. Everytime you see a father and son in the store or on the street, you could only think about Aaron and Jack. Everytime you went shopping, you couldn’t help but go down the office supply aisle and look for the refillable ink for Aaron’s pens. But you could never buy them, you didn’t have Aaron in your life.

Every little thing reminded you of those two boys in your life. You were so much happier with Aaorn and Jack in your life. Aaron was trying, yes there were the missed dates and the broken promises, but you’d rather have the missed dates and broken promises all over again than feel the way you do now.

Alone, Upset, Miserable.

You had still been living with Penelope, both of you decided that it was the best living arrangement. You tried to move out but she insisted you stayed. She had a personal chef, especially because she was not good at cooking, she had a gossip buddy, and you two got to remain friends, even though you and Aaron were broken up.

Penelope filled the voids of your emptiness. She did everything she could to make you happy. She was home every night with you. While she worked for the BAU, she very rarely got to travel, but, you think that after you explained to Aaron why you were breaking up with him, he made her stay back even more, especially when he found out you were living with her.

**** Earlier that day ****

Penelope had barged into Aaron’s office. Not caring what he was doing. He looked up from his paperwork and he said, “Penelope? What’s the problem?”

“Sir, I need to be honest with you. You need to go after Y/n. You love her? Don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but I want her to be happy. That’s my number one priority. She was not happy with me, so, I did what was reasonable. I let her go. I will always love her, but I will always want her to be happy. Even if that’s not with me.”

“But, sir, it is with you! She still loves you. Yes, she’s gone out on a few dates with that guy but they never had sex yet! That’s a sign she still loves you.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was listening to this. As he shook his head, he looked down at the pen in his hand. His heart stopped for a brief moment. These were only the pens he had kept in his home office. He doesn’t know how they got here.

“Penelope. I don’t care if she’s had sex with them. I lost her. There’s no coming back from this.”

“Yes there is. Trust me. She still talks about you and Jack. Her room is decorated with pictures that Jack had drawn her. There are framed pictures of you kissing her cheek. She still wants you. She’s not happy. She’s alone. She’s miserable. She needs you. She was happy with you.”

“She left. I lost her. How could she be happy with me. Something had to give, Penelope.”

“She just wants change, Aaron. That’s all she wants. She thinks about what went wrong and we talk about it every single night. She still loves you, Aaron. She just will never come into yours and Jack’s life again because she doesn’t want to cause you two any more pain than you’ve already been through.”

Aaron thought back to what you and him had talked about during your fight. He scoffed and said, “She’s a people pleaser. She’ll suffer just to make others happy. She needs herself to be happy.”

“Aaron. You make her happy. I promise, if you were to ever talk to her again. She’ll take you back. She’s only thought of a million scenarios where you and Jack come back into her life. I promise. If you think about this, think about how you want to change to be in a better relationship the second time, now’s your chance, Aaron. I can’t stand to see her miserable anymore. If you don’t want her in your life, you need to let me know now so I can be honest with her and help her come back to reality that you won’t be in her life anymore.”

Aaron couldn’t stop Garcia fast enough from talking. He needed to get you back. He had a second chance. Well, that’s what she was telling him. When she walked out of his office, he sat there contemplating how he was going to get you back after how he lost you.

It wasn’t long before it was storming, he didn’t realize how bad it was, but if he wanted you back, he needed to do it today.

****

It was storming really bad out. Streets were flooded, some parts of town were out of power, luckily the BAU wasn’t on a case so you were thankful Aaron was home with Jack. Jack still wasn’t a fan of bad storms. He thought they were cool, but he still loved to be cuddled up on a couch or sleep in bed with Aaron. And at one point, he loved to be with you.

Penelope was making popcorn as you two decided to have a movie night. We heard the crack of thunder and it began to downpour even harder. You didn’t realize how hard it was raining until the TV went silent for a split second, the lights flickering.

“Geez, it’s really raining out there. Anybody who is out in this weather right now is insane.”

As you and Penelope got settled in on your respective seats on the couch, she handed you a bowl of popcorn and a napkin.

“Thank you, Penelope. And not just for the popcorn, but everything. From helping me and giving me a place to stay so I don’t have to look for a new apartment, for being my therapist and listening to the problems Aaron and I had, for telling me how he’s doing at work and how Jack’s been doing. I mean it. It’s been 6 months without them, I want him back, but I can’t go back. I gave him the ultimatum, he needed to realize that I was serious. If I run back to him, what does that show? That this whole thing was my fault, especially when I’d go crawling back. I wanted him to realize when I moved out that he lost me and I wanted him back, I never realized that he would actually be better off without me.”

“Oh sweetness, he hasn’t been better off without you. He’s been taking it hard. He’s not the same person he was when he was with you.”

Part of you wanted to break down and cry. You caused his heartbreak, yet all you wanted him was to be happy. You assumed that letting him have the BAU would make him happy, he didn’t have to come home to a fiancé who complained about his broken promises.

“Let’s begin the movie before we’re both sobbing.”

As Penelope found the video, there was a knock on the door. You stood up, immediately making your way to the door and looking through her peep hole. When you looked through you saw Aaron shaking from the rain, he was cold.

You threw open the door, looking at him, he looked handsome, even if he was soaked from the rain, he looked beautiful. But that’s not what you cared about.

“Aaron! Are you insane?”

Penelope sent a picture to the BAU (minus Aaron) of Aaron and you at the door and said, “Operation get those two back together is in the final stages.”

“It’s been a long six months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want.”

What was going on? Aaron’s at Penelope’s door. You hadn’t talked to him in 6 months, but he’s here. He must have realized that he had lost you. He had to be holding on to some type of hope or faith to think it’s how he’d get you back.

“Aaron, let’s get you out of that suit, you’re gonna catch a cold. And is Jack home alone? He hates storms, Aaron.”

Aaron didn’t budge. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hall.

“I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. I broke your heart, I know that. But I’ll put it back together. Like I said, I would wait forever and ever. I was sitting on our couch the other day, in our sunroom, just remembering how it used to be. How the last good memory I have of us was from that morning 6 months ago. It hurt taking down those pictures of us, me kissing your cheek. Those were my favorite ones that I had framed, because you were so caught off guard in them. They were my favorite pictures because that was always my chance to surprise you.”

You couldn’t help but look at him with the most empathetic eyes you ever had. He must have come to his senses that he lost you, or, got close to losing you forever.

“When you told me that I was losing you, I couldn’t believe. I didn’t want to believe it. I lost my mind when I left you all alone and I never told you why. That’s how it works and that’s how I lost my dream girl. God, I miss you. I miss your scent in the morning. I miss when Jack used to be happy to come into our room, now he won’t even step foot in there. I missed that I had someone to come home, too. Someone who told me I was doing my best job, nothing more could have been done. I miss the one who put me above herself. I’m not saying that to be selfish, but I miss it because the date I went on, she only cared about herself. I compared her to you. No one will ever be you. I want you. I want the girl who notices what my favorite brand of pens are and secretly refills them. I want the girl I can come home too and not be screamed at even though I messed up and should be yelled at. I want you. I want all of you. I know I might have lost you for good. You told me that. I’m willing to compromise and cut back on my hours and if we schedule a date, I’m going to make sure you and I go on that date. Because i saw what you looked like on a date with another guy. I saw how happy you were as a live band was playing. You were dancing in the street and I want to be the one to spin you around. I want to be the one who dances with you when no one else is dancing. I want you for worse or for better. I’ll wait forever and ever just to get you again. I broke your heart, I’ll put it back together. I promise you that. I want to get you back.”

Just as he caught his breath, you stepped forward and kissed him. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer to him. The kiss was 1000 times better than your first kiss. You know Aaron meant every word he just confessed to you right now. That kiss proves he knew he lost you the first time, and he would never lose you again.

“I’m not going to lose you anymore. It’s you and me until the end of time. Those 6 months were hell without you in my life, I never want to live through that again.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

As you pulled him into Penelope’s apartment, he shut the door behind him and he said hello to her. You excused yourself and apologized to Penelope but she stopped you before you could even say anything else.

Closing your door behind you and Aaron, he pushed you back up against the door, kissing you again. You began to take off his wet suit and as you got him stripped out of his clothes, you stopped just as he was in his boxers.

“Who has Jack?”

“Jack is with Jess. He wanted to have a sleepover there. You know, he misses you.”

You pushed him back against the bed and made him sit down. You moved around the room, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants and tshirt that you had stolen and never gave back after the break up.

As Aaron put his sweatpants on, he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you once more.

“6 months was a long time without you. I never want to be without you for that long ever again. Please come home. Jack misses you, I miss you. I still want to marry you. It’s our 4 year anniversary today, in case you forgot.”

“How could I forget?”

You ran your fingers through his soaking wet hair. You took him in. It’s been 6 whole months since you got to be with him. But it’s probably been over a year since you were having an emotional, vulnerable, intimiate moment with him right now.

“Aaron, I love you. If we do this, we get back together, get married. Things have to change. I can’t go through that again. I can’t do the broken promises. I can’t have a baby with you if you won’t help be a parent to them. I want to have a baby with you because I know you’re an amazing father with Jack, but I want our baby to have those moments with you. Maybe even more moments that you missed with Jack. You told me that was your biggest regret in your life, was not being there for the little things. If we’re going to do this, let’s do this right.”

“I told you. I’m going to fix your heart that I broke. I’m going to do everything to change. I’m going to do it the right way. Thank you for bringing me to my senses. Thank you for giving me a second chance, well more like the millionth chance. But thank you.”

As you and him made your ways onto your respective sides of the bed, you got under the covers with him. When he pulled you into his arms, he waited until you were long asleep in his arms before he decided to close his eyes.

He lost you the first time, he sure as hell would never lose you again. Confessing his love, he wanted to get you back. He wanted to get his girl back, and he did. He would forever be grateful for it.

****4 years later****

As you and Aaron celebrated your 3 year wedding anniversary, 8 years of being together, you were sat around the dinner table with Jack and yours and Aaron’s twins. Within 4 years, you and him had your twins, a boy and a girl, and countless memories with your family.

As you were looking through the photo album, there was a note that had slipped out. When you grabbed it, Aaron tried to grab it from you. You opened it and read, “How You Get the Girl T. Swift”

“Aaron Hotchner. You did not win me back by acting out a Taylor Swift song in real life.”

Aaron smiled and took the note back from you. He kissed you, leaving Jack scrunching his face up and the twins clapping.

Aaron said, “That’s how it works. It’s how I got the girl.”

Tagging: @matcha70sugar @rosesinmars @imnotsiriusyouare

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfic #jack hotchner #aaron hotchner #HAPPY HOTCH HOURS #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x female reader

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salty-croissants · 6 months

Note

If its okay to request, could you do some relationship headcanons for Rayman (and later Ramon?) with a s/o who's been working with him for a really long time? Like a PA? If that's too specific though I totally get it.

Thank you for the request !

Don’t worry , it’s not too specific , it’s actually a very interesting concept :D

Hope this turned out okay !

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

established relationships ;

no warnings needed

Rayman 🧡

You have been working for Rayman for quite a few years , handling various business matters for him in the position of the voice of Eden’s personal assistant , and over time his charming presence and confidence completely won you over …

… and you weren’t the only one who felt that way .

The more time he spent with you , the more Rayman started to notice little things about you that him smile : the way you were always so kind to the other staff members working behind his shows , the way you laughed , the way you seemed to know what to say to him whenever he was having a bad day , even bringing him coffee when he ended up working overnight …

It wasn’t long before your relationship grew beyond more than just a professional one , and when eventually Rayman revealed his true feelings to you you were overjoyed …

Now it’s been a while since you two started dating , and you both really couldn’t be happier about your decisions .

I think Rayman is someone who overworks himself quite a bit , with the Board of Directors constantly monitoring what he’s doing and giving him more and more things to handle , so you definitely have to take care of him whenever he ends up not doing it himself …

< Ray , it’s 1:00 am … you need to get some sleep . >

< Ah , don’t worry about me y/n … I need to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting , it’s really important , and - >

< Well , I assure you that you will barely be able to stay awake at tomorrow’s meeting if you don’t get some rest , and having you fall asleep live in front of everyone doesn’t sound like the best way for it to go . >

< I -

…

Heh … touché . >

Since you’re always working together but can’t really display too much affection in public , Rayman likes to surprise you with little kisses when no one is looking , smiling in front of your adorable reactions to them …

Before he heads out to one of his shows , you make sure to wish him luck with a kiss of your own , adjusting his bow tie while feeling his loving gaze on you .

< You got this sweetie , you’re gonna do amazing tonight . >

< Thanks love … I’ll meet you back here as soon as this ends , don’t think I forgot about our date ~ >

You actually got to see up close the catastrophic interview with Red that lead Rayman to lose his beloved job , and you were the only one who remained by his side to comfort him when he was in shambles , desperately trying to bury his sorrows in alcohol rivers …

< That’s … that’s it … m-my life is … it’s all over … I have no goddamn purpose left , how am I even going to … >

< Ray , you do have purpose … we are going to figure this out together , I promise . >

Your words mean more to him than you’ll ever know , and as he lets you hold him in your arms Rayman can’t help but be thankful for having met you , the person that was able to fill the emptiness in his heart created by a life of loneliness and fear …

With you by his side , Eden’s now ex star doesn’t need to be afraid anymore .

Ramon 🖤

Now that he is fully aware of the atrocities Eden committed , atrocities that he unknowingly allowed to happen , Ramon’s only wish is to find you and explain everything to you .

He knows you would never blame him , he knows you will understand , and yet he can’t help but feel incredibly nervous as soon as he take a few steps into his lounge where he knows you were waiting for him to come back …

< Oh Ray , there you are ! I was worried something happened to … you … >

Your relieved expression immediately turns worried when you see just how troubled your boyfriend looks … he looks … different , for the lack of a better word .

< Oh god … sweetie , are you okay ? Are you hurt ? >

< Oh … don’t worry , that’s not mine . >

Ramon briefly points at the blood on his face before walking towards you , holding your hands in his .

< y/n , there is something I need to tell you …

It’s … probably gonna be hard to accept , but I need you to listen to me .

Can you do that for me ? >

You nod in response , staring back into his tired eyes and giving him your full attention .

< I’m listening . >

When he finishes speaking , Ramon’s worries about you blaming him for being so blind to all the terrible things the Board of Directors had been doing behind his back immediately vanish as soon as you wordlessly lock him in a tight embrace …

< Is … is it really okay … ? >

< Of course ! The Board of Directors was really good at keeping all of this hidden all these years … there was no way for you to know .

Besides , I … did indirectly work for them too , so we’re in the same boat right now .

I could never be mad at you over this . >

He is so relieved to hearing you say that …

< Thank you , y/n … I … I love you so much … >

< I love you too , Ram … nothing that happens from now on will ever be able to change that . >

Even now that the two of you have basically started your own little resistance , some things haven’t changed that much between you … like you constantly taking care of him whenever he gets hurt during a fight .

< y/n , I’m okay , really , you don’t have to - >

< Yes I have to .

Now please stay still honey … I need to finish patching you up . >

Ramon is always , always going to be watching over you , no matter the circumstances :

you’re heading out alone ? He will come with you , and if he can’t he’ll still end up following you from afar , his guns always ready to shoot any possible threat to your safety .

You’re sleeping ? He’s ready to immediately wake up if a sudden , suspicious noise reaches his ears … you sometimes wonder how he can fall asleep comfortably with a big gun under his pillow .

< Are you sure that’s comfortable for you , love ? You might get neck pains , sleeping on a hard surface every night … even if your neck is invisible , I think it could count , and - >

< Pfft … you’re so cute darling … thanks for caring so much about me , but it’s fine , really . I just wanna be ready for anything at all times : I won’t allow anyone to hurt you . >

Even tough you often tell him not to worry too much about you , Ramon just can’t help himself : you know him better than anyone , you mean everything to him , and if he were to lose you …

Let’s say he does all he can to avoid thinking about that horrible scenario .

#captain laserhawk #x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #rayman x reader #rayman #gender neutral reader

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dreamywriter143 · 1 year

Text

Nihona

Title: Nihona (Endearing/Sweet)

Status: Prologue (0/3)

Parings: Neteyam x Reader (Step SiblingReader), Sully’s x Reader

Genre/Warnings: ANGST, Mentions of death, Pregnancy, Romance, Fluff, Jealously, Forbidden Love Troupe, Step-Siblings, suggestive content!!, NSFW/MDNI (later on? Maybe not, depending on the response) All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Miréya and Neytiri have been best friends since birth. Miréya was always by her side, comforting her when she lost her sister and when the sky people attacked. Neytiri loved her as if she was her own sister. Loosing her was unbearable for her and Jake. What will happen when they take in what is left off her? Take care of her daughter who is completely alone in this world? How will she adapt to her new family?

Word Count: 2.4k

**IMPORTANT PLEASE READ** A/N: This is a TEST! I was originally going to scrap this entire idea but I wanna see if you guys would like this. Please comment if you’d like me to continue ! And please read the Author’s note at the end for further context.

__________________________________________

“Neytiri-“ Miréya whispers, her voice cracking.

She reaches out her shaky hand feeling for Neytiri. Her eyes squinting shut in pain as another whimper escapes her lips. Neytiri leans closer to her, her eyes brimming with tears watching her friend suffer.

Neytiri held her hand tightly within her gasp as the female Na’vi groans in pain. A thick layer of sweat covering her entire form as Mo’at sat in between her legs which were propped up for better access. Mo’at frowns deeply before turning to another female Na’vi in the tent.

“Get me more water!” She orders, her voice thick with emotion. Something she tried to hold down as she was Tsahik, she couldn’t show emotion. Even if she knew the terrible outcome the current situation would befall.

“I’m here, I’m here sister” Neytiri whispers soothingly, wiping her tears as Miréya forces her eyes open. Her eyes were droopy with fatigue as sweat ran down her face, desperate gasps escaping her as she struggles to breathe.

“You’re going to have to push, are you ready?” Mo’at says from her spot, placing cloth under the girl. Miréya nods shakily, turning to Neytiri fully.

“Neytiri-“ she calls again, her hand gripping her tightly,

“-if I don’t make it-“

“No! No sister, don’t say such things!” Neytiri begs unable to hold in her own sobs. Maybe it was due to the fact Neytiri knew the pain her friend was going through as a mother herself. Or was it the realization when Mo’at gave her a solemn look of defeat mid way through the birth. But she wouldn’t let Ewya take away her dear friend, she couldn’t allow that.

“Sister, my dear sister. Please listen to me” Miréya gasps, clenching her teeth as a surge of pain stings through her body. A paralyzingly pain running through her and rendering her immobile.

“P-please take care of her. Take care of my pr’rnen” (Baby) Miréya begs, fat tears sliding down her cheeks. Neytiri shakes her head in denial.

“No! You must be strong, you must be strong for your baby” she encourages her voice cracking in pain. Miréya manages to smile softly at her dear friend, someone she confided with when she felt lonely. Someone who held her as she mourned her mates death many moons ago. The very same friend who couldn’t be happier when she heard of her pregnancy. Neytiri was the first person Miréya relayed the news too.

“I-I can’t….he’s calling me” Miréya whispers, smiling as a certain someone voice catch her ears. A voice she had missed so much.

“W-ho?”

“Ro’até…..Ro’até is calling me. It’s my time” Miréya says softly, her eyes getting heavier. The numbness from the tips of her toes travelling upwards.

“Promise me-“ She gasps, using what little strength in her to lean towards her best friend.

“Promise me you’ll take care of her. Promise me” she begs. Her voice full of raw emotion, Neytiri closes her eyes, her locks falling past her shoulder as her body shakes.

“Yes, I swear I’ll protect her with my life”

~~~~~~~

Jake smiles to himself as Neteyam cooes in his arms, reaching up to grab his much larger finger. Jake chuckles to himself watching in awe how small his son was, even though it’s been a couple of months already.

His ears twitch in alert when he hears his mates familiar steps near their family tent. Carefully getting up while still holding Neteyam, Jake faces the door as Neytiri walks in her shoulders slumped.

Within a flash Jake is by her side, his eyes filled with concern as he takes in her disbelieved appearance. Tears stained her cheeks as fresh ones well once again. Her hair was in disarray, sweat dripping down her forehead as she huffs out.

“Ma’Jake” she whispers, as if assuring herself he was there with her. She looked at her mate with a broken expression causing Jake to frown. Carefully tucking Neteyam under one arm he reaches out for her pulling her in.

“Shhh my love. What wrong? What happened?” He asked softly, his tone held that ofconcern. He had bid Neytiri off earlier today with a smile when she had let him know that Miréya, their friend, had gone into labour.

“She…….. Miréya is with Ewya Ma’Jake…” Neytiri whimpers out fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. Jakes eyes go wide, his throat closing in with sadness as he tries to confirm what his mate had told him. He pulls Neytiri down to sit on the mat as she was visibly shaking.

Miréya was the only other Na’vi who had accepted Jake when he had come to their clan. She convinced Neytiri that Jake could become one with the clan. Immediately became close with the friendly Na’vi and her mate. Though Ro’até was a man of few words, he respected Jake when no other male had at the time. Jake felt great loss when he couldn’t protect him. And now, he lost Miréya.

“Wh-at…what do you mean” Jake asks, his voice cracking under his own despair. He focused on Neytiri, pushing down his own sadness. He felt himself slowly slip into his thoughts, but he forced himself to stay alert. He had to, for Neytiri’s sake.

“She was too weak. She knew this pregnancy would be difficult but she still chose to keep the baby….she…” Neytiri whispers, glancing down at the small bundle wrapped in her arms.

Jakes eyes widen, forgetting the tears that slide down his cheeks. He stares at the carefully wrapped bundle that seemed to stir in Neytiri’s carful grasp. He was so focused on Neytiri he didn’t seem to register that she was holding a baby.

“She has no one Ma’Jake…I’m….we’re all she has left” Neytiri croaks, she gently removes the wrapping revealing a beautiful baby girl. Her e/c eyes shining brightly under the dimly lit tent. Her stripes and freckling glowing in the dark. She babbles quietly straining to open her eyes.

“We’ll take her” Jake responds without missing a beat. He stares at the girl in awe, she was significantly tinier and smaller than the boy in his arms, looking that much more delicate. Neytiri nods, her eyes locked on the girl in her arms. She smiles softly while wiping a tear.

“I want to name her Y/n…. Miréya would have liked that” Neytiri says, glancing at her mate who smiles warmly despite his own tears.

“What a beautiful name….Y/n, our baby girl” Jake agrees proudly, cuddling up next to his mourning mate. The sudden movement jolts the baby fully awake as she lets out a squeal of surprise followed by a cry.

“Oh, shhh. Shhh my dear” Neytiri coos trying to calm down the startled baby in her arms. At the sounds of her cries Neteyam peers over at her in question, his lower lip jutted out in a pout.

Jake notices his sons interest deciding to scoot closer to the baby. He smiles seeing how Neteyam reaches his chubby hand out to her.

“This is your sister, Y/n” Jake says softy wiping away the tears.

Neteyam reaches to grasp the baby’s hand, wrapping his chubby fingers around her tiny ones. The moment he grabbed on her cries immediately calm down. It was as if the mere touch caused her to relax.

Neytiri and Jake smiles amongst themselves at the sight. Neytiri leans down to place a soft kiss on her forehead as well as her son, who didn’t let go of Y/n’s hand.

“Protect your sister Neteyam, she is very special to us”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~13 Years Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And protect her he did.

Neteyam and Y/n were stuck like glue. Always a few steps behind one another, even after Kiri got adopted into the family followed by Lo’ak and Tuk. They never seem to far away from one another.

Neteyam always watched out from her, carefully taking care of her as if she were made of glass. In a way, she was. To him. He treated her with nothing but love. Neteyam always admired his baby sister, his precious sister he couldn’t help but love with all his heart.

He helped her with wielding her first bow, helping her with her very first kill she was ecstatic about. He helped her train hard in preparation to tame an Ikran. And celebrated with a flight over the hallelujah mountains when she finally tamed her green Ikran she named in hoi out of her mother previous Ikran. Seze.

Neteyam never seemed to get tired of her either. When she would get into mischief with Lo’ak and Spider, Neteyam always took the blame. He would face his fathers wrath all over again so he wouldn’t have to see his baby sister upset.

He also kept teasing Na’vi boys away, far away. He was her personal bodyguard. He didn’t know what motivated him, but he always made sure no one attempted anything with her. She barley had any guy friends due to this. Not that she complained, she was satisfied with her older brother that meant the world to her.

As the children grew so did their bodies and their thoughts. Touches and kisses that were nothing but innocent seem to morph into something else. Something passionate. At least to Neteyam.

The first time Neteyam felt jealousy was when he saw a guy make a pass at Y/n. In front of him. Due to his baby sisters innocence she didn’t understand the vulgar meaning behind what the boy had said, but Neteyam did. He had the boy on the ground before he could finish his sentence, his feet pressing his face into the soil beneath him.

Even whilst getting lectured by Jake and Neytiri regarding his sudden aggressive behaviour Neteyam couldn’t help but replay the event over and over in his mind. He felt jealousy, jealousy that stung him deep. But he also felt his heart clench with a feeling he didn’t know. A feeling he couldn’t quite decipher.

The next couple of years Neteyam finally understood what he felt as Y/n grew to be a beautiful Na’vi. His beautiful baby sister he couldn’t help but love, love in a way he knew was forbidden.

Neteyam tried to distance himself at first but the pain he felt while avoiding her was unimaginable. It was when he caught Y/n sobbing hysterically at their sudden distance he realized how tough life would be. He couldn’t stay away from her, but he couldn’t change his feelings either. He would have to be her brother, all while loving her in a way that seemed to cause heartbreak.

“What’s wrong? You’re unusually quiet today” Neteyam claims as he scoots closer to Y/n. Their feet dangled below them as they sat perched on a branch high above the ground.

The small and adorable pout that Y/n tried to hide did not go unnoticed by Neteyam. Then again, nothing ever did. He was always watching her, always keeping her in a close distance to make sure she was ok. Make sure she was safe.

“I overheard some girls today” she sighs out knowing very well she couldn’t lie to her brother even if she wanted to. Neteyam hums in response urging her to continue.

“They were talking about…kisses. A lot of them-most of them have already had their first kiss!” Y/n blurts out throwing her hands in the air out of frustration. Neteyam’s eyes grow wide, his body stiffens at her words.

“And?” He asks after clearing his throat harshly. He forced himself to keep his eyes trained on her eyes, avoiding the idea of glancing down at her pillowy lips.

“This is embarrassing….I haven’t had my first kiss…I’m starting to feel left out!” Y/n admits, blowing a practise of hair that was loose out of her braid.

Neteyam coughs at her words. It was true he hasn’t had his first kiss either, but there was a reason for that. He was so in love with his own sister he couldn’t find it in his heart to move on. Let out make a move on some Na’vi he would never grow feelings for.

“Do you….want a kiss?” He asks, carefully wording his thoughts.

“Yes-of course!” Y/n quickly responds, turning to face her brother. Her ears twitch in excitement at the thought.

Neteyam feels his heart race against his chest, his mouth going dry as he utters the words his heart wanted to scream.

“Do you want to k-kiss me?” He asks quietly. Y/n’s eyes growing wide at his words.

“-as a practice!!” He quickly adds as Y/n furrows her eyes in thought. It takes her a moment but she shyly nods. Her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Neteyam gulps loudly as he pulls her closer by grabbing her waist. It was slim and seem to fit perfectly around his arms, something that sent a shiver down his spine.

Neteyam felt guilt eat him alive. Knowing very well every fiber in his body wanted to kiss Y/n, for his own pleasure. Because he desperately wanted to feel her pressed against him. He desperately wanted her lips against his. He felt terrible for using this moment to his advantage in a way, but all that reasoning muffle out as he gazes down at her lips.

“Are you sure?” Neteyam asks one more time, wishing she would agree. Y/n nods back, pushing herself closer to him.

Neteyam gently reaches up cradling her neck with his large warm hand. He leans down watching how she closes her eyes in anticipation. Feeling her feathery breath tickle against him is the last straw as he places his lips over hers.

A shock of electricity runs through both of them at first contact. Their lips mold together heatedly as if they had kissed many times before. Neteyam pulls deeper into the kiss breathing through his nose, refusing to pull away. Now that he tasted her he couldn’t get enough. She tasted sweet, addicting. He didn’t know how he refrained from kissing her before.

Y/n pulls away gasping for air, her eyes blown wide. Neteyam desperately tried catching his breath knowing very well he looked just as flush at her.

“W-woah” Y/n whispers as the reality starts to sets in.

She kissed Neteyam. Her older brother….

And she loved it.

__________________________________________

A/N: I just wanted see if you guys would actually be interested in this story. In no way is Reader related to Neteyam by blood but this is a step-sibling kinda situation. If I get positive reviews back I’ll continue with the 3 chapters I had planned (which will include a NSFW scene), if not I’ll delete it! I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable while reading this. So please let me know what you think! Thank you guys☺️☺️❤️

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padfootdaredmetoo · 1 year

Note

Please can I have a Tommy x daughter fluffy fic where as her mums died she asks him to come with her to try on ballgowns with her and he doesn’t like a few for different reasons but he gets emotional when she finds the perfect one

Hey Anon,

Hope this does it justice - this request got me in the feels. Thanks for waiting. <3

Warnings: Teen drama, mentions of funerals and death - peaky related stuff

There were a lot of things you kept to yourself when it came to your father. Most of which Esme and Polly would wrangle out of you and give you advice for.

You were close with each other the same way you suspected other fathers and daughters were. He was there to comfort you in his own way (mostly just holding you tightly) when you needed him, he gave you books to read and would try to remember to ask you questions about how you enjoyed them.

He was away a lot for business but he always called you before bed to ask how your day was. Some moments when he’d drank to much you saw the pain in his eyes when he looked at you, a spitting image of your mother but with his eyes.

You adored him, and rarely ever asked him for difficult things knowing he was always stressed.

“Awe, you miss us, don't you? Next time we go you’ll be old enough to tag along. An extra week won't kill you darling.” Esme’s voice rang out over the phone and your stomach sank. You were in a proper situation now. You said your goodbyes but didn't tell her why her taking an extra week's vacation with Pol was a problem for you.

You lit a cigarette and slid down the kitchen wall. They would be home the day of the big charity ball, not the type of event you could get a dress for the morning of. They must have forgotten that they’d promised to take you when they got back. You didn't blame them, this was the one time they got away from kids and the business.

You could ask… Lizzie? She hung around the family, worked for your dad, and seemed nice enough to you when you came by the office. She’d probably be able to help you.

You needed a backup plan, Linda still hadn’t forgiven you for an outburst you’d had at dinner a few weeks ago, but maybe John would help you?

You thought about getting ready with Esme he’d always tell her what looked good. Well, mostly how he enjoyed the way it looked on her, but still Esme always looked very happy with his commentary.

You got up and flicked your cigarette out the window before going to ask for a ride to the office.

You showed up and Lizzie greeted you with a large smile.

“Here to see your dad are you?”

“Well, I was actually - I -” The words got caught in your throat, she was far too pretty. Thinking of her seeing your awkward body in dresses made you shrink away. “Have you seen Uncle John?” You said quickly.

“Should be in his office.” She gave you a look and you thanked her. You knocked on the door and his voice called out.

“Hey kiddo,” he said looking up from a mess of papers. “Your da’s got me right tangled in this stupid paperwork. Give him a kick in the shin when you see him next will ya.”

“Sure.” You laughed. “Guess you're pretty busy then?”

“Be lucky if we survive another week with the hens gone.” He sighed, there was no way he’d be out of this mess any time soon, but maybe he could just tell you what to wear.

“What erm- What types of things does Esme wear that you like?” He looked confused by the question.

“Trying to impress a lad then? Odd person to come to for advice on that.” He scratched the back of his head but before you could fix what you said he’d already carried on.

“Look if he doesn't like you as you are then there's no point in going after him. Gal’s seem to think we care about all the fuss when really - we’re going to see eve-”

“What are you doing, love?” Your father's voice called from the doorway. Happier than ever to see him you sprang up from your seat and moved to give him a hug. Jarred by what you figured John was implying you decided to just pluck up the courage to ask him to go.

“Get that shit done John, needs to be out by tomorrow morning,” John swore at him and you followed your father out of the room his arm steering you into his office.

“What did you need from John?” He asked moving behind his desk.

“Well, I didn't want to bother you.”

“Trust me, love if it's worth asking, it’s not worthy of Johns's advice.”

“Ah, well, I need a dress for the ball.” You stated, and he gave you a curious look. “Um, well it's my first time really going, for the dinner and dancing and everything.” You coughed awkwardly. For a moment you hoped that he would just understand where this was going and tell you he’d help you, but you looked at his face and knew he was lost as ever.

“SO” you said a little too loudly. “I erm - need to get a proper dress, Polly and Esme said they would take me but they won't be back in time.”

You brought your gaze from the wallpaper once more to still see him still looking confused.

“You can have any dress you want, just give me the receipt.” He shrugged.

‘No- I erm. I just- need someone to go with me.” You confessed sounding irritated. “I don't know what looks good - I’m not good at that type of stuff. John always tells Esme what he thinks about her dresses when we get ready so I figured he would be a good person to ask.”

“I’ll take you.” He said uncomfortably. “We can go after-” He looked down at his schedule. “Can it wait till after dinner?”

“Oh, yeah - thanks”

“No problem,” He said with a nod looking only slightly put off.

“I’ll head back to the house -”

“I’ll grab you at 7”

You gave him a nod and then left the office saying bye to Lizzie.

Dinner was nice, you rarely ever went out to eat. You rambled on about a book you were reading and your dad followed along. Eventually, you started to tuck into your meal and he sighed.

“So there's a boy then?” He asked looking pained.

“No?” You said startled with a mouth full of mashed potatoes.

“No?” Tommy repeated looking at you with the look he gave when he felt you were lying. As a kid, you thought he had superpowers and could see in your mind.

“No” You shook your head grabbing your glass of water.

“John mentioned -”

“He didn't understand what I was asking. Don't need to be interested in a boy just because I don't want to show up in front of all those people wearing something embarrassing.” You said defensively, face flushing.

Tommy let out a hum and finished the last of his drink. Your last comment seemed to put him off even more.

You finished up dinner and then headed to a fancy-looking shop. The sign on the door said closed but you followed behind your dad as he pushed the door open.

The lady barely took notice of you as she shook your dad's hand, ensuring she would take care of anything he needs. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as she touched his arm.

He turned to you “alright free rein of the place, go pick some out that you like. I’ll start on this side.”

You almost wanted to laugh as if it was a joke but your father moved passed the woman and started on the far wall. She looked over your body and began pointing out some to try on.

You thought about her suggestions and said you would try them to be polite. If you turned up looking like a frosted cupcake Esme would never let you hear the end of it.

You moved to the long dresses and found a nice dark red one. It was a shimmery fabric but it was dark enough that it wouldn't bring too much attention. You had a feeling that it was the right one, but with the lower neckline you felt it might be a fight to take it home. You decided it was worth it and asked the woman to take it to the dressing room for you.

You found another few that you liked well enough, all of them were black and made of various materials.

You met back up with your dad in the lounge and saw him sipping another glass of amber liquid, a cigarette in his hand. He met your gaze and held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Wasnt much help out in the field but it’s only because I have faith in your abilities.”

You gave him a smile, happy to see him in better spirits. You put the first one on and hated it immediately. It was much too tight and it would be impossible to dance in.

“Not very practical.” You waddled out and you watched him point back to the dressing room sternly. “Alrighty then,” you murmured feeling embarrassed.

You tried the cupcake one on next and fought to work up the courage to walk out in it. You struggled to get it through the doorway and your father actually laughed.

A proper healthy loud laugh that was contagious.

“I feel like Esme would take the piss for ages if I wore this.” You looked yourself over in the mirror.

“Not just Esme. Didn’t think it would be possible to make you look anything less than gorgeous. In that line of thinking it might not be so bad after all. Don’t want this mystery boy enjoying himself too much.”

“Dad!” You snapped before fighting back into the dressing room. “There is no boy.”

“If you say so.”

You wore one of the black ones next. You walked out feeling comfortable, you thought the black would go with any jewelry and looked classy.

You looked at your dad and his face twisted slightly.

“No black.” His tone of voice took you off guard.

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” you asked trying not to get worked up.

“No black.” He said firmly and you knew better than to challenge him when he sounded like that.

You went back into the room.

“Ah - that leaves one left.”

“Give it a go,” he called back.

You pulled on the red one and loved it instantly. It was grown up, hugging you in all the right spots without showing too much skin. The color made your blue eyes seem electric.

You liked it so much you didn't want to show it. What if he hated it as much as the black dress? Or thought it was stupid like the pink one.

You took a deep breath and called out. “Don’t be mean.” Then stepped out.

You looked at the mirror avoiding your father. It looked even better in the lighting. Eventually, the silence was too much.

You watched him take the dress in and thought you saw tears in his eyes. You wanted to run back and hide. Why was he being so weird? Even if there was a boy, it’s not uncommon at this age. Heck, most of Esme’s sisters were married by 16.

“That’s the one eh?” He finally said looking at you.

“Yeah. Think I look grown up, but not to - erm- showy”

“Grown up, is one way to put it.” He finished his drink and smiled at you. “I think you look lovely. Your mother has a necklace that will match with the color” He said softly. “-if you want to wear it.” He added hurriedly. For a long time, he thought her things might have been cursed, until one day he came home from a very long trip and said it was him that was cursed. You shivered remembering that night. You always avoided touching her things, her room untouched but not forgotten.

“I would really like that.” You said feeling emotional, you realized that the panic was about wanting to look nice, but some of it was anger that your mother was not there to help you. “Did she wear this color then?”

“Always red.” He nodded.

“Ah - well, I can see why.” You looked back in the mirror.

“Look - I know this sort of thing would have been more fun with Pol or Esme- and you probably miss your mum a lot these days. Lots of changes and whatnot.” He waved his hand uncomfortably. “But - well, I enjoyed this. I don’t mind being around for this stuff. I wouldn't have liked you more as a boy or anything like that” He cleared his throat.

Tears started to spill over something you hadn't even realized you were worried about.

“I love you.” You said. Felt strange standing on a platform saying it down to him as a saleswoman was probably judging them from the shadows somewhere.

“Love you too.”

On the ride home you both made jokes about different things, Arthur and John weren't very good at taking over for Pol and Esme and you enjoyed your dad’s commentary about trying to keep the place running.

When things quieted down you finally felt that you needed to end this boy nonsense.

“Dad?” You asked wondering how he kept the car straight while fumbling with getting a cigarette out and lighting it.

“Yeah?”

“There really isn't a boy, if there was John is the last person I would ask. One time he picked me up from school, years ago, and a boy, Tim Weatherby, had waved to me. He ran his car into the back of his parent's car three times before driving off.”

You watched your father let out another laugh. “Always classy.”

“I’d tell you first obviously. Esme would get too excited, and Pol would worry.”

“And what would I do then Eh?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“Probably meet him and scare his pants off.” You answered honestly.

“That’s a good thing then?”

“Obviously. If he comes back it's because he really likes me.”

__________________________________

EXTRA - Tommy's POV

Watching her walk out in a black dress made the fleeting moments of humor leave him. He sort of saw her in the gown but his mind flashed back to that scared little girl all dressed in black.

“No black.” He said slightly out of control of the feelings biting into him.

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” He could see that you wanted to argue but he couldn't stand to see you in that dress any longer.

“No black.” He said firmly and you looked a bit deflated before retreating back to the dressing room. His mind pulled him back to that day. You attached firmly to his side, dressed in all black. The way you tried so hard to behave, tucking your face into his neck to cry as they lit the vardo on fire. How you even tried to hit Polly when she tried to take you from him. How you would panic if he was out of your sight for more than a few minutes.

No black. He ran his fingers through his hair.

The next dress hurt nearly as bad. Tears he had not cried in years welled up in his eyes as he looked at you taking in your body in the mirror.

So much like your mother, the style of the dress, the color. You were going to be an adult in a blink of an eye. Only small traces of that little girl left in your features. Now there would be boys and time left with it being just the two of you would start to slip away.

He thought the dress was much too showy, you didn't understand that yet though. Considering you would be standing next to him the whole night he figured it would be alright. You could pair it with your mother's jewelry and he could get Pol to convince you to wear it with a shall or something.

Eventually, your eyes looked at him for approval and he felt guilty for snapping at you. There was a very evident look of self-consciousness on your features. He wished it came more naturally to him.

“That’s the one, eh?” He said and enjoyed the way your eyes lit up. He may not be the best dad, but he would try hard to spend the last time he had with you. Find things to do with you, before you became busy with the rest of the world.

#Tommy Shelby #Thomas shelby #Shelby daughter #Tommy shelby dad #Thomas Shelby dad #Tommy shleby reader daughter #peaky blinders #Pekay blinders imagine #Thomas Shelby & reader daughter #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction

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wreckedandpolemic · 29 days

Note

pls post the stuff abt their kids omg

lalalala i didn’t tear up at Any point during the writing of this (she lied)

so your eldest, alanis, is matty’s little mini-me. from the minute she’s born, you can tell; she has a full head of dark, thick hair that you know will sprout into his pretty ringlets, his brown eyes blink up at you from her sweet little face, and you can even see his nose scrunched up in her tiny little features. you’ve never felt more in love than with her tiny little body against your chest, tears in matty’s eyes as he holds you both. “oh, my god,” he breathes. “i’m a dad. hello, little one. i love you so much. god, i didn’t know i could love someone this much. she’s so tiny!” he coos, staring down at her adoringly.

“she looks like you,” you murmur, stroking over the bridge of her nose, her little face smaller than your palm.

tears are spilling down matty’s cheeks, his smile brilliant. “you think so?” he chuckles wetly. “god, hope that’s the only thing she gets from me. listen to me, baba,” he says seriously, addressing her like she can understand him, her eyes wide with fascination. “don’t be like me. be like your mum, yeah? ‘cause she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” your heart melts, and despite the lingering pain and slight delirium, you’ve never been happier.

as alanis gets a little older, though, it’s obvious she’s ignoring his warning, matty’s personality as obvious in her as his hair. she’s a little diva (“confident!” matty chimes in.), bossy and a know-it-all (“self-assured and clever! aren’t you, little lani-girl? my clever girl, don’t listen to mummy.”), but underneath she really is the sweetest little thing. matty’s absolutely enamoured with her, spoils her rotten, unable to say no to her big brown eyes. you can’t complain too much, though — you know from experience how difficult those eyes are to refuse <3

she’s nearly three when you tell her you’re pregnant again, slightly worried about her reaction because she’s so used to being your spoilt little baby. but her little face just lights up, toddling towards you on her chubby, unsteady legs and pressing her hands against your belly. “hi, baby!” she says excitedly. “baby soon, mummy?”

you laugh, picking her up and smothering her in kisses as matty tells her, “babies, sweetheart.”

alanis gasps, her eyes going comically wide as she goggles at you. “how many, mummy? four? seven?”

you shake your head, your own eyes widening. “no, baby. just two, promise.”

and, true enough, six months later, you bring vera and fiona home. alanis is obsessed with them, obsessed with being a big sister. she’s gentler with them than you’ve ever seen her, fascinated as they learn to grip onto her fingers. one night, you go to put her to bed and find her in the twins’ room, singing nursery rhymes and lullabies over their cribs. you sprint for matty, tugging him by the arm to show him, tears brimming in both your and his eyes.

“she’s so precious,” matty whispers, your head resting against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you.

“she’s just like you. aren’t you, baby?” you add when she looks up and sees you both watching her. “you’re dada’s little mini-me, right?”

alanis nods wildly, running as fast as her little legs will carry her into matty’s arms, giggling wildly as he spins her around. “my little girl,” he grins. “not so little anymore, are you? before i know it, you’ll be sixteen and kissing boys. or girls.”

she wrinkles her little nose, the expression so reminiscent of your husband that you can’t stifle your laugh. “kissing for mummy and dada. not for lani. yucky.” she says firmly.

matty nods proudly. “that’s right, sweetheart. yucky. no kissing ‘til you’re twenty-five. no, thirty.”

you scoff. “we were married before i was twenty-five, matthew.”

“god, i don’t know how your dad didn’t fu- flipping kill me. i get it, now,” he says, balancing alanis on his hip. “i need her to stay my little girl forever. okay, lani? gotta be dada’s sweet little baby girl forever,” he tells her seriously as she reaches up to tug on his curls. “you want a bedtime story?” he asks, and she agrees enthusiastically, matty singing to her under his breath as he carries her to her room. you watch them go, in their own little world, your chest swelling with love.

watching their little personalities develop as they grow up is the absolute highlight of your life. alanis gets more like matty every passing day, all unruly curls and biting wit. even when she grows into a moody teenager, the two of them stay heartwarmingly close, matching curly heads bent together, always whispering and giggling. vera starts out life as the easiest of your three girls, calm and easily entertained, rarely crying, and largely stays that way. in your house of dramatists and divas, you sometimes worry that she’s so laid-back that she’ll just disappear. but she has a built-in best friend in boisterous little fiona, always dragging her out from under a pile of books on some adventure or another.

matty’s never so happy as when he’s with his girls. he’ll never think twice about calling off or leaving work early if you need or even just want him to, always at your side. knowing your girls won’t grow up how you did, emotionally walled off in a house that wasn’t a home, warms your heart. your home is soundtracked by laughter, squabbling, the crackle of a vinyl player or the chimes of a piano.

you don’t realise how different their childhoods are to yours until alanis comes home, aged thirteen, and bemoans some embarrassing situation involving the girl she likes, dramatically throwing her head into your lap and her feet into matty’s. you didn’t come out to your parents until you were in college, and you’d never have gone to them with boy problems. so you cuddle your girl close, kiss her curly little head, offer her ice cream and a movie to feel better.

vera pokes her head around the door just as elle is starting to study for the lsats, tucking herself in between you and alanis and letting you squeeze her into your arms. when fiona joins you fifteen minutes later, matty declares you’re having a movie night and bedtime is cancelled, darting off to bring you all popcorn.

three hours later, your girls have fallen asleep in a pile on the sofa between you and your husband, and the pair of you are fighting off the sandman yourselves. you tuck them carefully into bed, their peaceful faces twitching into tiny smiles when you kiss their foreheads gently and creep into your own bed. eyes closing with matty’s arms around you, your last waking thoughts are of the perfect family you’ve built. this, you think, is home. this is love.

#i’m lowkey so nervous to post this #i have actually never wanted to write kidfic before this #i’m so obsessed with them :(#matty pls let me have your kids #matty healy x reader #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #writing #white and gold #alanis #vera #fiona #blurb

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multifandomsw · 9 months

Text

Apologies

Harry Styles x Reader

summary: After an encounter with your old best friend, she gave you her number to catch up. When you decide to send her a message, someone else replies. Was it destiny?

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, Harry himself

author’s note: I feel like you’ll either like this or hate this. My writing is quite shitty, but who cares? Once again, a big thank you to @manrocket-mo who helped me out SO MUCH. I love our chats 🤭

Part 6

Apologies masterlist

“London is so beautiful.”, you breathed out as you and Lucy walked through the city, your arm linked with hers. You were absolutely mesmerized by the buildings and their architecture. London just felt different. Different in a good way. A deep contrast to the small town where you were from. It felt like the minute you landed in London, you were already feeling better, happier and safer.

“It is.”, Lucy smiled. You had met up with her a few times and got quite close to her. It was mostly her who spoke, but you began to open up to her too. She was really nice and seemed like a person you could trust.

A real friend. For once.

You had learned quite a bit about Lucy. She worked at her parent’s firm and earned very much money. She loved to spend said money, especially on clothes and bags. Lucy had just broken up with her boyfriend of four years a month ago and was currently living alone. She was an extrovert and loved the attention, but also liked staying at home and watch Netflix. Most importantly, she was a great friend. Lucy always listened to you and had never once interrupted you. She already cared about you and had even offered you to stay at her apartment.

You stayed at an old and cheap Airbnb until you found an apartment in London, which turned out not to be easy at all. They were either too expensive or way too small and nothing seemed fitting.

“Did you think about my offer?”, Lucy raised her eyebrows expectingly while you just sighed. “I wouldn’t even be able to pay the rent. It’s a very kind offer, but-“

“There’s no rent to pay.”, Lucy grinned at you. “It’s my apartment, I inherited it from my grandparents.”

“Lucy-“, you began, but she interrupted you quickly. “You need a place to stay at and I’d love to have a roommate. It’s been very lonely lately.”, she admitted and lowered her head.

How could you say no to that?

“Okay.”, you gave in. “But I’m gonna pay you. Somehow”

Lucy only rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

You: I found a place to stay at

H: You did? Finally!

You: Lucy offered me to stay at her place

You: After she begged me for days, I finally gave in

You: She’s a really great friend

H: I’m happy for you

H: How’s London?

You: You should know, don’t you live here?

H: I do, but I travel a lot with my band. I wish I could be in London more often

You: I wish we could meet up. Someday.

H: We will, I promise.

H: After finishing this tour.

You: What’s your band called anyway?

H: I’ll tell you soon enough

You: That’s so unfair! You’re always so secretive.

You: You even know what I look like

H: I promise you’ll find out

H: The time’s just not right yet

You: If you say so.

H: Cherry

You: No, I trust you. Like you said.

H: Thank you

H: So how’s London truly?

You: Absolutely mesmerizing!

H: It is :)

H: I have a few favorite places that I feel like you’ll like

You: Ohh that sounds promising, H

H: You should definitely go to Columbia Road Flower Market

H: It’s one of my favorite places ever

You: I didn’t know you like flowers

H: I love flowers, they’re beautiful

H: But I have to warn you

H: None of them will compare to your beauty

You: STOP

You: You’re making me blush

The first thing that you noticed as you walked into Lucy’s apartment was its smell. The sweet scent of vanilla filled your nose and immediate comfort washed over you.

It smelled just like Lucy.

You looked around and observed that the apartment was giant, yet the first word that came to your mind that would perfectly describe it was cozy.

The living room with its big windows was well lit and you noticed the sun peeking through the curtains. When you stepped forward, the sun hit your face and warmth spread through your body. You pushed the curtains aside and your eyes widened as you came into view with Big Ben. “Wow.”, you let out and took a picture.

“That’s not what I expected.”, you chuckled as your gaze moved to the piano in the corner of the living room. “Is this yours?”, you questioned, but Lucy only shook her head. “They are-“, she began, but stopped mid-sentence. “A friend of mine used to live here for a while. He never took his piano with him.”

You snorted. “Did you think about giving it back to him?”, you asked. “No, trust me when I say he has enough money to buy a new one. He probably doesn’t even realize it’s still here. Besides, I love practicing on it.”

“You play the piano?”, you wanted to know and Lucy chuckled. “I’m trying my best.”, she explained and led you to the guest room. “Here’s where you will stay.”

You grinned at her. The room was plain and only consisted of a twin size bed and a closet. But you would make it yours. Eventually.

You: 📷

You: You can see Big Ben from her apartment!

H: What a great view

H: Which reminds me..

H: 📷

H: This is the bookstore you told me about, isn’t it?

You: No way! I’m so jealous! I’ve been dreaming about visiting Shakespeare and Company FOR YEARS

You: Why are you in Paris??

H: My band has a small concert here today

You: Oh! Good luck!

H: Thanks, Chérie

You: Aww

You: Is Paris as beautiful as people say it is?

H: Even more beautiful

H: Everything reminds me of you

You: I’m smiling STOP

H: Then I’ll never stop

You: La ville de l’amour

H: The city of love indeed

You: And have you found love yet, H?

H: Yes

H: But not in Paris

You let out a giddy laugh, but clasped your hand over your mouth only moments later, hoping that Lucy hadn’t heard you as you had yet to tell her about H.

You looked around your new room once more, before you decided to put your clothes in the closet.

You opened the closet which was filled with some old clothes. One sweater in particular caught your attention. You almost let out a snort as you saw that it was an old One Direction sweater with their faces on it. “I didn’t know you were a One Direction fan.”, you laughed.

“What?”, Lucy called out and made her way to your room. Her face was filled with confusion, but when her eyes landed on the sweater, realization washed over her face. “Oh. I used to be a fan. Not anymore, though.”, she admitted shyly.

You only giggled in response. “I like it.”, you admitted and Lucy simply shrugged. “You can keep it if you want, I don’t wear it anymore.”

You grinned at her. “Great.”, you let out and buried your nose into the sweater. The scent instantly hit your nose. It smelled like a forest in spring after it had just rained, like fresh flowers and grass. It smelled like home.

And it most certainly didn’t smell like Lucy.

“He called again.”, Lucy complained and you looked up from your hot chocolate. You were sitting in a small café that H had told you about and you absolutely loved it. It was not too crowded, very cozy and affordable. You’d have to thank him later.

“Who?”, you raised your eyebrows and it was clear that you had not listened. “My ex!”, Lucy groaned and realization hit you. “He’s still calling you? That means he must care for you.”

Lucy let out a brutal laugh. “If caring for me means cheating on me with one of my closest friends, then yes.”

You pressed your lips together and lowered your head. “Oh.”, you let out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know-“

“No.”, Lucy interrupted you. “Not your fault-“, her sentence was cut short when a girl came up to you. She smiled at you and her eyes lit up. “Hey, aren’t you y/n? Can I take a picture with you?”, the girl asked sweetly and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. When you looked at Lucy, she only shrugged her shoulders. “How-“, you gulped. “How do you know me?”

The girl giggled. “You’re jesting. You’re all over the internet!”

“What?”, you let out and the girl looked at you quizzically before pulling out her phone and showing you some Tweets.

They were all about you. About the conversation you and Harry Styles had at his concert. Pictures of your face were all over Twitter, some were making fun of your appearance while other were speculating whether you and Harry Styles-

You couldn’t even finish the thought because it was so ridiculous. There was no world, no universe and no galaxy where Harry Styles, one of the most famous singers of your time, would like you. The people were jealous for no reason. It was so ridiculous that you almost let out a hysterical laugh.

Almost.

Because this was your worst nightmare. Your face was all over the internet. Everyone knew how you looked like, everyone saw your flaws, your insecurities. You hated it, you absolutely hated it and almost smashed the girl’s phone into the wall.

Almost.

“No, no. I don’t-“, you tried to stay strong, but the way your voice cracked at the end gave you away. “He just talked to me. I don’t even know him.”, you clarified and watched as the girl’s face fell. “Oh.”, she let out and left.

You tried to blink away the tears that were almost leaving your eyes.

Almost.

Before Lucy could even say anything, you packed your things. “Hey.”, Lucy began and you shook your head. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”, you let out, trying to convince yourself more than her.

“What just happened?”, she desperately wanted to know and your eyes locked with hers. She watched you with a concerned look on her face. “Harry Styles talked to me at the concert I was at and told you about. Which is, as a matter of fact, nothing special, he always interacts with his fans. But somehow, my interaction with him and my face is all over the internet.”

“Which is your worst nightmare.”, Lucy added and you nodded, letting a tear fall freely. “I hate the attention, the criticism.”

Lucy reached out and grabbed your hand. “The internet will forget, I promise. You have nothing to worry about.”, she tried to console you and you almost believed her.

Almost.

You didn’t leave the apartment for days. Because you were afraid. Afraid that people would recognize you and try to talk to you on the street, afraid that people would make fun of you.

Afraid of people.

It was quite lonely, but the Netflix shows and the smell of Lucy’s sweater, that you hadn’t taken off for days, distracted you and calmed you just a little.

You hated it. You hated that you were afraid. You hated that you cried yourself to sleep everyday. You hated that you even cared about it.

Sometimes you wished you could be just like Lucy. She wouldn’t care about those Tweets, she would be able to ignore them and never think of them again.

In your case, however, the Tweets were imprinted on your brain and would never leave it, regardless of what you tried.

Suddenly, your door opened and revealed Lucy with some clothes in her hand. “Hey.”, she greeted you. “Let’s get you out of bed.”

You groaned when she switched on the light. “What?”, you asked and she smirked at you. “We’re going out. I can’t see you moping around in your room any longer.”

“Going out where?”

“To the club.”, she explained as if you already knew about it. Lucy held out a black dress that you could already tell was quite revealing. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, no, no. We’re not going to the club.”, you refused, but Lucy looked at you with pleading eyes. “I haven’t made out with someone in ages. I need to get my mind off of my ex.”, she began, but you were not convinced yet. “Besides, the alcohol will make you forget about what happened.”

This. This sounded better. “It will?”, you raised your eyebrows in suspicion. “If you drink enough. Please. I can’t see you all sad anymore. I care bout you.”

This. This is where she had you. “Okay.”, you agreed and almost laughed when you saw the smirk on Lucy’s face.

“Stop fumbling with your dress!”, Lucy laughed and you simply groaned in return. “This can not be considered a dress anymore. It’s so short!”, you complained and Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “Might get you some attention. I don’t even know much about your love life.”

“There’s nothing to know. It’s non-existent.”, you explained as you both made your way to the bar and asked the bartender for something to drink. “We could change that.”, she giggled and you only rolled your eyes. “What? I mean look at you! You look great.”

You had to admit, you did look kinda good. She had put much effort into applying your make up and curling your hair. The outfit also did certainly not look bad on you.

Still, you felt ridiculous. This wasn’t you and you just didn’t feel confident in your skin, not like Lucy.

“Only because you want to get laid tonight, doesn’t mean I do.”

Lucy let out a gasp. “I never said-“, she stopped mid-sentence. “Well, I might have said that. But I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“You can. I understand that you want to forget your ex.”

You looked around and were reminded why you hated clubs so much. For once, it was filled to the brim and very hot. People were dancing on the dance floor without caring about the others. There was a lot of pushing and pulling and the air smelled like sweat. Just sweat.

The music was so loud that you could hardly even hear what Lucy said, or as a matter of fact what you said. But maybe Lucy was right. This would at least get your mind off of everything that had happened.

It was after your third drink that you felt the alcohol pumping through your system. The room seemed to be spinning and your giggles started to last a little longer than usual.

“I just- I’m so thankful that you took me out. I love getting drunk!”, you let out a giddy laugh and talked a little faster than usually. “After everything that happened. Especially at the concert.”, you continued and let out an exaggerated sigh.

Lucy, who was definitely not a light-weight like you, watched you in amusement. “What happened at the concert?”, she questioned. She knew that something must have happened, at least that’s what Harry told her. But he didn’t know what exactly took place.

“My old best friend and her boyfriend tricked me. He pretended to like me, and I didn’t know it was her boyfriend and asked me if I want to go to a concert with him. I agreed to, of course, because he even called it a date and who wouldn’t want to go out with a handsome guy, I mean how often do you get the chance-“, you were interrupted when Lucy cleared her throat. You were ranting.

“Right. Yes. Well, they showed up together and Lucy told said some mean things to me, like that Harry only talked to me because I’m so ugly and I even believed it, well believe it, because look at me? Why would Harry Styles talk to me? Well she said no one would ever like me and I kinda believe her because no one has ever liked me.”, your heart suddenly clenched in your chest at that memory. It all came crashing down again, your heartbreak, your insecurities, the feeling of not being good enough. The alcohol had made you happy, but you realized it was not enough yet. Before you continued, you took another large sip of your drink.

“I’m sorry-“, Lucy began, but as you felt the alcohol in your system again, you giggled. “No need to be sorry. I think someone likes me, well at least I like him. Funny story actually, I met this guy by accident because Jules gave me the wrong number. He’s so mysterious, it’s insane! I don’t even know how he looks like, but we’ve been writing for months and I really like him. Like like him. Maybe even more than liking him, I kinda have feelings for him and don’t say anything! I know that I don’t even know how he looks like, but he’s just so sweet and caring and he always send me pictures of things that remind him of me.”

Lucy bit her cheek and tried not to say anything, at least she had promised Harry not to. But this was good. Lucy now knew that you liked him too. Maybe not as much as Harry liked you, because he was basically obsessed with you, but quite a bit. She grinned at you. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

Harry was exhausted. He wasn’t exhausted because of his flight to London, though, no Harry was mentally exhausted because of you.

Well, not particularly because of you, but because of the fact that he felt you drifting away. It was Lucy that told him about a girl recognizing you, it was Lucy who told him that you stayed in your room for days, it was Lucy who you seemingly trusted more than him.

He wished it was him. He wished you would have told him all the things. Instead, you had pretended and acted like everything was fine, even after he had asked you multiple times.

Harry just wanted to help you, just wanted you to trust him. He wanted to call you his.

He began to resent his life, if he wasn’t Harry Styles, if he wasn’t one of the most popular singers, he could love you properly. He wanted to, so desperately wanted to tell you the truth. He even gave you a few hints here and there, but he was afraid. Afraid that you wouldn’t forgive him for lying to you.

“Harry?”, a voice interrupted his thoughts and Harry raised his head, shooting Sarah, who was sitting on Mitch’s lap, a confused look. “Hm?”

He could barely look at them. Not because he wasn’t happy for them, no, he was beyond happy for his friends, but because he craved what they had. He craved that deep, real and unconditional love they had.

“Your phone is ringing.”, she pointed to his phone that was lying on the table in front of him.

Harry only shrugged his shoulders, not even looking at the name on the screen. “Can’t be that important.”

Sarah shot Mitch a knowing look, before she spoke again. “This one might be.”

Harry sighed, but when he glanced down, his heart almost stopped.

Cherry.

You. You were calling him. Before he could even think, he picked up the call and held his breath for a second.

“Cherry?”, he whispered, keeping his voice down.

“H?”, your sweet voice answered and Harry’s heart surely stopped for a few seconds. He turned to Sarah with wide eyes, who only offered him a smile in return.

Before he could realize what he was doing, he was bolting out of the room and standing in the hallway of his apartment. “What- are you okay?”

“More than okay.”, you giggled and it was now that Harry noticed the loud music and people chattering in the background. “It’s just so unfair, H, I mean, I don’t know what you look like and I- I like you. It’s insane, you could look like a gorilla and I’d still like you.”, you slurred and Harry’s feelings were all over the place. For once, his heart was speeding in his chest at your confession. You liked him. You liked him. However, concern quickly overpowered the feeling of happiness shooting through his body.

“Are you drunk?”, he asked in distress.

“God- even your voice sounds hot.”

“Cherry, stop.”, he warned, his voice getting lower. You couldn’t distract him. Not now. Not when you were drunk and probably alone somewhere in London.

“Where are you, Cherry?”, he demanded, already running up to his room and putting on a black hoodie and sunglasses.

“Cherry?”, he tried again. “At a club. It’s so cool here! Lucy said it’s her favorite club.”

Harry let out a breath of relief. You were with Lucy and he knew what Lucy’s favorite club was. “But she’s away making out with a guy right now.”

Oh no.

No. No. No.

Harry quickly grabbed his car keys. “It feels so good getting drunk. Wait, let me order another drink!”

“Cherry?”

“Cherry! Hear me out. Stay were you are. I’m picking you-“, before Harry could finish his sentence, you hung up.

“Fuck!”, he let out before he stepped into his Ferrari.

The moment he stepped into the club, the hot air hit him. For a second, Harry regretted wearing a thick hoodie. But then he remembered that he had to. He didn’t want to get recognized, especially not today.

Harry scanned the dance floor for you, suddenly reminded of when he did the same thing at his concert. Searching for you in a crowd of people. He had found you back then and he was confident that he would find you today.

His eyes trailed to the bar where he saw a figure talking to the bartender-

The moment he saw you, everything else suddenly didn’t matter anymore. He forgot about the people around him, about the loud music, about the way he was sweating furiously.

Harry could only stare at you. You were wearing a black dress that was hugging your body perfectly. Your hair was curled and god-

Your smile. It was contagious. He let out a small laugh himself.

Until he realized who your smile was directed to.

Before he could even realize what he was doing, he was walking up to you and gently grabbed your arm, instantly gaining your attention.

You turned around to him quickly and Harry was absolutely mesmerized. God, he was so enraptured by your beauty. Your eyes were a bit glossed over, but shining nonetheless. Your cheeks were a slight pink color and he had to fight the urge to cup them with his hands. His eyes moved down to your lips, only once, but it was enough for him to know that he wanted to kiss you. Right then and there. He wanted to feel your smooth lips moving against his-

“Hi!”, you giggled and Harry could swear it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He had to shake his head and gather his thoughts again, remembering the reasons why he was even here.

Harry gulped. “Hey.”

“Are you my boyfriend?”, you tilted your head to the side, admiring his features.

Harry bit his cheek, hard. He wished, with every fiber of his being, that he could say yes. He wished that you were his.

“No.”, Harry admitted defeatedly. “Not yet.”, he added quickly.

“Oh.”, you answered and reached out to take off his sunglasses. The moment your fingers touched his face, Harry could feel a spark.

Your eyes met his and he saw how your face changed into something different. Adoration maybe?

“I’m sad you’re not. You are so beautiful.”, you breathed out and it was the end for Harry. He wanted to fall to his knees and ask you to marry him right then and there.

No one had ever called him beautiful before. Not to his face.

He let out a chuckle and lowered his head as he felt the blush creeping up his face. You would be the death of him.

Harry shook his head, trying to get rid off his thoughts.

His eyes moved away from your face and to the drink next to you. He could practically feel the men watching you and he was more than happy that no one had approached you yet. “Hey, you should keep your drink in your hands and don‘t look away from it. There are many vile men who would take advantage of that.”, he explained and you nodded. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Sorry.”

Harry sighed. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Oh.”, he watched as your face lit up. “You know Lucy?”, you squeaked out. “She’s great! Well, she’s probably in one of the bathroom stalls having sex-“

“Okay. We’re gonna stop right there.”, he interrupted you and bit his lip. “How about this: you’re gonna stay right where you are and I’m going to find Lucy. Then I’ll bring you home. How does that sound?”

He watched as you hesitated for a second, but then gave in. “Okay, stranger.”

It was minutes after that he found Lucy in a quiet corner making out with some guy. “Lucy.”, Harry called out and Lucy stopped kissing the guy. “Hm?”, she let out and her eyes widened when she saw Harry.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”, she wanted to know as the guy kissed down her neck. “This is not a good time.”, she continued, but when she saw Harry’s stern face, she knew she was in trouble and who this was about.

“Why would you take her to the club and leave her alone completely drunk? God knows how many drinks she had.”, Harry argued.

“She can take care of herself.”, Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

“Lucy.”, Harry repeated. “She hates clubs. She absolutely hates them. You should know this. How did you even get her to go with you?”

Lucy smirked at Harry. “I told her she could forget her troubles if she gets drunk.”

It took a lot of self control for Harry not to shout at Lucy.

Harry’s delicate heart, though, squeezed in his chest. You’d rather get drunk than talk to him, to H, about what had happened?

You meant so much to him, but Harry started to doubt if you even liked him back. “She could have talked to me!”

“I can’t believe you left her alone at the club! You should’ve stayed at her side instead of-“

“Harry.”

“No, you should’ve-“

“Harry.”, Lucy repeated and it was only then that Harry stopped, his eyes following hers.

Great. Someone was trying to talk to you.

“This is not over.”, he hissed out, before he made his way to you. A guy, probably a head taller than him, was leaning dangerously close to you.

Harry softly called your name, your real name, before he put his arm around you. “Stay away from my girlfriend.”, he warned and the guy put his hands up in surrender before leaving. “I thought you weren’t my boyfriend.”, you acknowledged as your eyelids grew heavier. “He simply wanted to talk to me!”

“Oh, trust me, he didn’t.”

“Can you stand?”, Harry asked and you nodded your head confidently. “Of course I can! Why wouldn’t I-“, as you took your first step, your body swayed and you fell into Harry’s arms.

Harry laughed and slung his arm around you. “Doesn’t look like it.”, he chuckled as he led you to out of his club and to his car.

“I promise you can trust me. I know Lucy. I’ll bring you home safely, okay?”, he stated. “Okay.”, you answered tiredly as you got into the passenger seat. Harry leaned over you, buckling you up before he got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Harry glanced at you and saw how the moonlight perfectly illuminated your face. You looked like an angel. It was hard. So hard to keep his eyes on the road when he just wanted to look at your face.

“No.”, he scoffed.

“Why not?”

Harry hummed. “It’s complicated.”

“Soooo..”, you began. “Are you in love then?”, you asked and Harry grinned, his dimples very much evident on his face.

“I think I am.”, he started, but found the statement not quite fitting. “I know I am.”, he continued. “Are you?”

“It’s complicated.”, you mimicked his earlier words and Harry only rolled his eyes.

“Oh, complicated?”, he raised his eyebrows and reached out to turn on the radio.

He stopped breathing when he heard the first tunes of his own song, of Cherry, starting to play.

“No, not that song. Can you switch channels?”

His heart broke right then and there, but he changed the channel nonetheless. “What’s wrong with the song?”

Harry spared you a glance and saw that you were at the brink of tears. He reached down to hold your hand in his, but you quickly pulled away to wipe away your tears.

“It just reminds me of bad things. Everything Harry Styles related does. I mean he’s a great singer but I can’t stand to listen to his music anymore- hey! Did you see the bird?”

Harry let out a shaky breath, his heart squeezing in his chest. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. Cherry used to be your favorite song, he added it to the set list because of you. It had slowly become his favorite song, too.

“I’m so exhausted.”, you whined, but Harry let out an annoyed sigh. “I know, but you need to change. Sleeping in this dress will be so uncomfortable-“, he began, but stopped mid-sentence when he saw that you were slowly closing your eyes.

“Great.”, he whispered, not sure what he should do. “Okay. Breathe, Harry. Pretend this is one of your friends.”, he tried to assure himself, looking at your sleeping face while he unzipped your dress. He slowly pulled the dress down, keeping his eyes on your face and not looking down once. Harry took off his hoodie and the shirt he wore underneath it before he helped you put on his shirt. The way Harry tried to put on the shirt without looking down would probably be a bit awkward to watch, but Harry managed to do it anyways.

Harry draped the blanket on you and tucked you in properly before he sat down next to your bed and let the breath he had been holding out.

He felt like his insides were being squeezed together, like someone had taken all his air and he could barely breathe. His heart was beating impossibly fast and he was aware of his sweaty palms.

“H.”, you mumbled and Harry’s eyes widened. “Y/n?”, he whispered, but your eyes were closed. Were you.. dreaming about him?

Harry knew that he couldn’t watch you forever, that he’d eventually have to go, but he didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted to watch you forever.

He brushed some of your hair out of your face before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to you forehead, his lips lingering maybe a bit too long. “I’ll always take care of you, I promise.”

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#harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader

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netherfeildren · 10 months

Text

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .7

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Angst, Discussions of child abandonment, Discussions of child neglect; Family dynamics; Mention of abortion; Jealousy; Possessive behavior

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: There are much happier times ahead after this, I promise. I hope you enjoy <3

Word Count: 6.8K

Read on AO3

Grief is different. Grief has no distance. Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

As the turn of the season marches its way into the city, the leaves bloom the crisp, bright colors of autumn. Austin comes alive with the burning colors of fall: reds and oranges and yellows, so beautiful. It makes you feel nothing. You usually love the change of the weather into the colder months, but this year it all feels – meaningless. Empty – like you.

And yet, life continues, work continues, and at the end of October you and your fellow art teacher plan a field trip to one of the city's parks for the children to paint the colors of the changing leaves. It should be something to look forward to, despite the stress of having to organize a group of twenty first graders and wrangle them in a large, open space, you usually look forward to things like this. You love your job, it’s always made you happy, but somewhere along with the part of you that he’d stolen away, you’d slowly gone by losing other smaller parts of yourself, discarding them in the wake of your grief. Your ability to smile, to enjoy the things that had always previously made you happy, all gone away with him. All you can focus on now is how much you miss him. How much you hate all the decisions you’ve ever made, and how much you resent your history, your parents, for leaving you this broken, wanting thing that could not seem to find happiness – that would not let yourself be happy. No matter how hard you try.

But above the wailing cacophony of your grief, your longing for him ringing in your ears, there is the overwhelming resounding cry of your past screaming at you: you can’t let this go, you can’t let this go, you can’t let us go. Your parents, their history, the tragedy of their demise, the painful solitude of your childhood, the sight of your father wasting away for years and years and you, a child, unable to do anything, unable to help him, to save him, to bring her back so that he could be okay.

But you also can’t let him go. It was, you now knew, an impossibility. As futile as forgetting your own name, how to breathe, how to be alive. Holding on to him now is an intrinsic part of you that you’re sure you’ll live with for the rest of your life.

And so, the real question now is, what are you more willing to hold on to? But no, that isn’t right either, the better question is: what do you have to hold on to? What do you need to survive? What can you not live without? What would leave you only half a person if you were to let it go – the past or him?

You’re sure you know the answer, but are only too afraid to admit that all you’d put the two of you through throughout all this, had been pointless. So pointless and so needlessly painful.

All you want now is to talk to him. No, you don’t even have to talk. If you could just get the chance to see him, even if from a distance, it would make everything better. You just want to see that he’s okay, that he’s not as miserable as you are. That he hasn’t been left as desolate as you seem to have ended up.

The day is gorgeous, despite your mood, and the class has been good so far, calm and cooperative. The kids all sitting across picnic blankets you’d spread out on the grass amongst the fallen leaves. They’re all chattering and painting, engrossed in their task, when you hear your name being shouted from across the park in a high pitched little voice, and like a fucking revelation from above or your worst nightmare, your deepest desire come alive from the bottom of your heart – there they are. Sarah, running at full speed towards you from the far side of the park. Joel stalking a few paces behind her – his face like stone. You start to move towards them in a daze.

You take in the sight of him from afar – massive, so tall, and so beautiful. His hair is longer, his dark curls brushing the back of his collar and curling along his temples. Weeks since you’d last seen him, since he’d last touched you, since that horrible moment in that restaurant bathroom. Your cunt clenches, empty and desperate, around nothing, just at the sight of him. He has on a dark green flannel that brings out the warmth in his eyes, you can see it, even from all the way over here. He looks so big, so strong, and you have a sudden, savage vision of him forcing you to the ground right here, in the middle of the park, and taking you for himself, forcing your legs open and ravishing you. Your head goes slightly woozy, dizzy, at the intensity of it, and you stumble, holding your hand out towards Sarah. You can see his eyes tracking your movements, your unsteadiness. His cheeks are bright red, flushed with the crisp autumn air, or perhaps, with anger.

She squeals your name as she runs towards you, throwing herself into your legs, wrapping her arms around you when she slams into you. Your breath whooshes out of you at the impact, and you’re forced to take a step back as her body rocks into yours. Careful, Sarah. Be gentle, he calls.

“Sarah,” you gasp, “Hi, baby. How are you?”

“I missed you,” she says, and her face is so sincere, so full of genuine happiness at seeing you, despite the fact that she’d only met you a couple times, that it brings tears to your eyes now, but you aren’t sure what kind of tears they are. Perhaps, from the pain of seeing your past self reflected in her fervor. The devastation of being confronted with him again. The most sublime elation because look at this little girl and how special and wonderful she is, and she’s happy to see you. She’s so in need of the attention and comfort of a maternal figure, and she reminds you very, very much of yourself at her age. It breaks your heart to feel her innocent desperation. You cannot even consider looking up at her father, you know that if you do, you’ll break down entirely, sobbing at his feet, begging him to forgive you, to love you back as much as you love him. “We– we should go play in the water again. I liked it so much when we did that. I had so much fun.” There’s such earnest pleading in her voice, but it gets just the tiniest bit smaller and quieter when she says the last part, as if she’s unsure if you’ll feel the same, if you’ll reciprocate her feelings. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out through your mouth as you hug her closer to you.

When you open your eyes again and look down at her upturned face your voice is slightly steadier, “We can go whenever you want, sweet pea. I had so much fun, too,” but you lose the battle at the end, voice cracking slightly. You can feel his hovering presence at your periphery like a blazing inferno, demanding attention, and you finally look up at him. He has a slightly unhinged look in his eyes, taking you in from head to toe, gaze manically roving your form, like a man starved, parched – desperate and ravenous.

“I had to go to the doctor,” Sarah says. “Look,” she shows you a bandaid on her little bicep, “I got a Sailor Moon sticky, but it hurt really bad.” She pouts and you rub her hair, cooing at the small hurt.

You look back up at him then, “Joel,” you croak. He doesn’t say anything, and you can see a slight tremble in the lines of his arms. He turns his face away from you, looking across the park, and you watch the ripple of muscles in his throat as he swallows several times, the flare of his nostrils as he takes his own set of deep, calming breaths. “Please, say something,” you beg.

You hate the look in his eyes, you hate it, you hate that you’re the reason he looks like this right now. He doesn’t deserve this. He deserves your love. He deserves to be loved. He’d told you once that you weren’t some secret to be kept, hidden, that you deserved to be cherished out in the open, you realize, in this instant, that he deserves the same, and that what you’re doing to him is wrong. But how to stop it? How to change the most integral part of your mind, of your belief system, and that which it all hinges on, your past, your history? An impossible feat.

“What are you doing here?” he finally says. His voice is rough and deep, and the mere sound of it makes everything deep in your tummy clench painfully.

You’re still hugging Sarah to yourself, and she tightens her arms around you, looking up between the two of you as if she can tell that something isn’t right. “Field trip.” You hook your thumb back towards where your kids are still being watched over by the other chaperones.

He finally turns back to look at you, and the fire in his eyes is terrible for all the desperation and pain you recognize in it. “It’s been weeks,” he whispers.

“I know.” You rub Sarah’s shoulders gently, feel her nuzzle into your thighs.

“I went to look for you at the school.”

“I know.” Your voice sounds almost like a cry. Despite everything, despite telling you that this was hurting him, he’d still come to look for you again. He hadn’t given up on you, no matter how many times you’d pushed him away.

“I knew you’d seen me,” and he looks so hurt as he says it, that it sends a spear of fire through your chest. You can tell he’s holding on to his control by tenterhooks, trying his best not to let his anger out and scare you or Sarah. An irrational part of you wishes he’d lose control, throw you over his shoulder and force you to go with him.

“Daddy?” Sarah’s little voice.

“Are we just never going to speak again? Is this the way you want it to stay?”

“No,” you croak, “I don’t– I don’t know,” a violent shake of your head, “I mean– yes, of course we are. I just can’t do this right now.” Your kids are waiting for you. You’re supposed to be working right now, not watching the rest of your future crumble brick by brick before your eyes, the only thing you’ve ever truly wanted for yourself angry beyond words at you. He scoffs, runs a shaking palm over his mouth and beard.

You hear the other teacher call your name from behind, and as he comes up next to you, he puts a hand on your shoulder, perhaps sensing the tension or a fight brewing. “Everything alright over here?” he asks you gently, not sparing a glance at Joel.

The entire right side of Joel’s face spasms furiously. “We’re in the middle of a fucking conversation here,” he spits, taking an aggressive step forward, eyes zeroed in on the hand touching you. You shrug it off immediately.

“Joel–” you warn, at the same time that Sarah’s high, anxious voice cries, “Daddy, why are you mad?” Her voice seems to snap him out of it, he looks down to her, his eyes going slightly wider for a second before he squeezes them shut and shakes his head once, quick.

“I’m not, baby. I’m sorry–”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you murmur to your coworker. “Can you give us a minute? I’ll be right there.”

As he retreats, you say again, “I can’t do this now, Joel. But maybe–”

He shakes his head, ignoring you, crouching down to Sarah’s level. “Let’s go home, baby.” He places a gentle palm on her slight back. You can see the tremble of his hand, and it makes a sharp pain start up behind your left eyeball.

“No, I don’t want to go with you!” she says muffled into your thighs.

“Sarah, baby, please. We need to go home,” he begs her.

“Joel–” He continues to ignore you.

“I don’t want to go yet,” she looks up at you, her little face pleading, “I want to stay with you, please.” Her eyes are starting to fill with tears. “Don’t you want me to stay with you? You said you had fun with me.” The tears start to fall, your own pool in your eyes.

“Sarah, it’s okay, baby. We’ll play another time,” there’s a begging lilt in your voice too. What are you doing? This is all your fault, you’re hurting the both of them.

Joel stands to his full height now, finally meeting your eyes again, and his voice is hard and angry, patience come to an end as he says, “Sarah, it’s time to go. Say goodbye. I’m not gonna ask you again.”

“No! I don’t want to go with you! You’re being mean!” She turns her tear streaked face to him now, pulling on your clothes as if trying to scramble up your body. “Please, Daddy, please, I want to stay here.”

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, “Sarah, please.”

“Why do I never get to play with girls? Where’s mommy? Why hasn’t she come back? I’m tired of just being with you, Daddy!”

He flinches at that. If you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you’d have missed it. If you hadn’t memorized his face so well, you wouldn’t have seen the muscle under his left eye twitch. He freezes as she starts to sob loudly, and you’re at a loss, writhing in agony for the both of them.

He crouches down again at the sound of her very real and anguished sobs, and his voice is gentle and coaxing again, when he says, “Let’s go home, baby girl. It’s alright, come on. I’ll get you an ice cream. How does that sound? With the rainbow sprinkles we like, okay?” He pries her off you gently, not turning to look at your face again, taking extra care to not touch you even a little bit, but you feel the heat of his hand against your thigh as he grabs her, and it has a jagged shock moving through you. You desperately wish he’d take you with him too.

He wraps her in his arms and picks her up, “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you hear her sniffle as she hides her face in his neck, a safe place. You wish you could hide from the world there too.

“I know, baby.” He rubs soothing strokes along her back as she wraps her little arms around him to clutch at his hair.

“When’s mommy coming back?” she mumbles as they walk away. He does not turn back to you.

The encounter in the park makes everything worse. Much, much worse. Like your heart had been ripped clean out of your chest that day and had gone off with Sarah and Joel, leaving you behind to float in the rotten pool of your misery.

“I heard a strange rumor recently.” Your mother’s voice, soft but discerning, comes through the phone – first call in six months. It makes dread coil in your belly. Nothing good ever follows that tone.

“Oh? What’s that?” She doesn’t call often, but when she does, it’s usually to ask for something, you’d already promised to send her a few hundred dollars, or to share news of a new boyfriend or trip or something equally self involved.

“You remember my friend Betty? From when you were growing up – she lived down the street from us. Well, she’s in Austin now too, has been for some time–” Fuck, “And you wouldn’t believe, but her daughter’s a doctor now, there in Austin too, very impressive.” She’d always hated that you’d become an art teacher – not glamorous enough for her. “Maybe you remember her, too? Little blonde thing, very cute… and well, she said she was at a birthday party recently,” No, no, no, no, please, no. “And she said she’s almost sure she saw you looking pretty cozy with some man, who she has on good authority, is married.” There is a sharp and cruel vein of satisfied glee in her voice, “And you know, I really couldn’t believe it when she said so, and I told Betty, ‘My daughter? She’d never get herself involved with a married man.’ I mean, you’ve always cast me as the worst sort of woman for leaving my own unhappy marriage for another man. So, how could it be that my saintly little girl has now fallen into my own footsteps? I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” You’re shocked speechless. Of course, of course, she’s found some way to hear about this. She’s always had a way of finding out everything about you, as long as you’d go without speaking or seeing each other, she always finds a way of sniffing out the things in your life you want to keep hidden from her, as much as she claims she doesn’t care what you do or what becomes of you. “Nothing to say?” she croons.

“It–” your throat is tight, filled with tears already, confessing this to her will break you in a way you don’t think you’ll be able to recover from. “It’s not like that – it’s not like… you,” I’m not like you, I’m not, I’m not. “It wasn’t something– something done purposely,” you whisper. “It just happened.”

She laughs at that, long and loud, “Yes, well… it usually does happen like that. Unintentional. One doesn’t often set out to ruin a life, do they? Sometimes it just happens, I suppose, no? What do you think?”

“I haven’t – I haven’t ruined a life,” you blink furiously, shaking your head even though she can’t see you.

“Oh, no? You’ve always taken yourself to be so high and mighty – always so holier than thou, and now? What? You’ve ended up just like me. Brought low, down to my level, after you’ve always judged me so harshly. How does it feel? To have ended up just like me? Scum like mommy.”

“I didn’t ask to be this…” you cry, “This– this hideous thing I’ve turned myself into–” like a creature of cracked skin and painful faultlines, “But this is what you made me, this is all you left me with, an inability to escape you, an inability to have a normal relationship.” You know she can hear the tears in your voice, and that she’ll be all the worse for it, crueler for subjecting her to your weakness, but you can’t help it. She hates it when you cry, your tears have always reminded her of her own weaknesses.

“Baby girl, that’s just what you tell yourself to make yourself feel better. And sure, if it helps… if it works, go on. You tell yourself that. But you’ve made your own choices. I can’t be held at fault for what you do with your life.”

“I’ve never seen anything else but the wrong kind of love. A– a painful kind of love–” you think of your past words to Joel – his worry that he and Eva had only ever given Sarah the wrong example of what it is to love, and your reassurance that the love he gave her was all that mattered. You’d never had that, you’d never had that sort of steady, reassuring presence that he was able to provide his daughter, and so how could you have turned out any way other than gnarled and wrong? And yet something in you rebelled at that thought, for you felt, deep inside, that despite the circumstance, the way you felt about Joel was anything but wrong. If anything, it was the only thing in your life that made sense, the only thing that was truly right. “How could I have turned out any other way…?”

She’s quiet for a moment after that, and when she speaks again, the venom in her voice is gone, and the mother you hold so sacredly in your memory, the one she only lets you see on occasion, makes a rare appearance. Her voice gentled now, she says: “I know… I know it wasn’t always right, that I wasn’t always right,” she huffs a breath of laughter and it sounds… almost sad, “But I did love you.” Did love – the past tense spears you through the heart and silent tears drip down your chin, “I’m sorry that I’ve made you believe otherwise, but I did.” And you know, part of you recognizes the truth in her words, despite the pain they bring, you know that she had loved you, she’d just never known how to show you – it was always the wrong way, the wrong kind of love, but it was love. The love of a mother who’d never really wanted to be a mother.

“I know,” you tell her quietly.

You were always fighting with her in your sleep. Unable to let the wound close. But you were so tired, you needed to let it go, you now thought. You needed to move on, couldn’t let it rule your life and your relationships anymore.

You can’t help but think that a broken home is such a funny and strange thing that spits out equally funny and strange people. At once, fractured, disjointed, painful, but at the same time, still a family, still desperate for all those things that make a family, a family. Despite not really knowing what that truly means. Still held together by that obligation of blood, love, need, childhood. Something inescapable, and even yet, in many ways, unbreakable. For you can never truly break a thing like that. It would always live with you, in some manner. You would never be able to forget it, and even if you cast it away, left it behind, forgave, memory was not a thing so easily let go of. It would stay with you regardless of what you did or who you became. Keep its claws in you. But you didn’t think you had to let it rule you anymore, subjugate you. You could forgive your parents for their faults and their let downs, for being human, for being bad parents. If you could not forget, then you could forgive, let go, move on, stop letting their memory dictate you.

She was never a good mother, but she was still your mother, and you’d always known that despite everything, you’d always loved her anyways. You always would.

You wonder what it was about some women who were able to find such comfort, purpose, stability in motherhood, as opposed to others who saw it only as a prison, a grave. Was it paradox, nature, nurture, personality, fate? Nothing meaningful at all, no reason, it just was? You wished there was a set equation that could tell you what you would be, who you would be, what kind of mother you would turn into, were you to become one.

And then, in opposition – the plane of fatherhood and all it entailed. What was it that made a man a good and caring father, as opposed to one who drank themselves to death, and left their already very alone child, even more alone? What was it to have a good mother and a bad father or vice versa? To have both of the same? What were the implications, and what sort of creature would it turn you into once their influence had been wrought upon you?

What were the implications of having had bad parents, and then, when the time came for you to become one yourself, wanting desperately to be a good one? How did you do that when you’d had only poor examples?

How did you escape faithlessness?

You had to wonder, would your father have always become what he had, even if she had never done what she did, if your mother had never left, never been unfaithful? You didn’t think that you could cast all the blame on her anymore. After all, a marriage was a strange and intimate thing, only looked upon in its true form by the two people within it. No one could turn a thing into something it was never meant to be. No one could turn you into someone you didn’t already have within you. This was true for yourself, as well. You supposed, the same could even be said for Joel and Eva. People were what they were. Nature versus nurture, again and again and again.

You had been so staunchly stuck upon the fact that you couldn’t be the thing to break their marriage apart, when he’d told you, time and time again, that there was already nothing to be broken, that there had never been anything to break in the first place. The marriage, too, had always been what it was. Had you, in your fear and fractured history, tried to make it into something that it had never been for fear of it turning you into that very history you were so frightened of? There were different realities to category, different things held different significance and not everything was the same in perpetuity.

Categories, labels, titles – husband, wife, lover, mother, father, daughter – was it all useless fodder people ascribed to a thing to be able to bend a person or a feeling to their will? You didn’t think you could tell anymore. The ideas that had always been so securely held in your mind seemed to have all been shifted askew by a man who, in his own right, was beyond category. A title did not make a thing real. But love – that was its own category, of this you were sure. That was a pillar all on its own, its own realm which opened up possibilities and necessities that you were now coming to realize were uncontainable.

And so, what of you and Joel? Did that count for nothing merely because of a lack of category for what you two had? No. Impossible. Because in many ways, what existed between the two of you was a marrying of your very souls, a melding of them – as if he’d stolen it straight out of your chest. Its own category ascribed to its position in your reality, and thus directing all your actions for the simple fact that you were in love with him, and it could not be swallowed any longer.

What is it to feel before category?

Were the labels useless until there was feeling behind them?

All your life labels, titles, promises, promises, promises had never meant a single thing to anyone around you. Not your parents' promises to each other: husband, wife; not their promises to you: mother, father, daughter, family. None of it had ever meant anything, so how could you ever be expected to have faith in the promise of category?

How did you escape faithlessness? How?

You and Joel loved each other – real. That was its own category, its own faith, in a way. The feeling behind category.

What was it to feel before category? Possibility.

What was it to feel after category? Promise.

There was a real sort of promise in love – no guarantee, surely, for love could be wrong, but intention, for it could also be right. Joel and Sarah and everything he’s done solely for her sake – committing himself to a marriage he’d not wanted, had known would never work. There was a promise in that. A father telling his daughter that he would do anything to give her what a child could need: a family, a home, togetherness, security. He’d sacrifice anything for that.

You’d always known you recognized something in him, but what was that thing? You’d thought that you couldn’t say, or didn’t want to say, didn’t want to admit it, for too long. Part terror, definitely, part desire, unfortunately – most horrifying of all, and that which had been your first realization where he was concerned: yourself, kindredness. You saw yourself in him – a great and unbearable knowing. The two of you were the same. And so, it was only then, love. And oh, there it was. Perhaps you could admit it after all.

For at the end of everything, the simple reality you were now forced to accept was that to know was to love, and you’d known Joel from the first first moment you’d met him, as he’d known you. A thing was what it was, and no matter what category you tried to force it into, it would remain as it had been born as. Recognition was, you thought, what ascribed value, what made the decision in the end.

“You’re cold, Joel. You push people away, hold them at arm's length.” Hours of this interminable back and forth between the two of them. His temples were throbbing. All he wanted to do was fall face first into bed and not resurface until tomorrow morning. But she was getting at something – restless and coiled all day – she was getting ready to make her decision. Eva was leaving.“What woman would ever want to stay for that? You aren’t unlovable… you just won’t let yourself be loved.” He shakes his head at that, not looking at her. Not true, he wants to say. Despite everything, he still thinks there’s a part of you that loves him, you love him, you love him, he knows it. Even if you can’t let yourself be with him, or don’t want to be with him. “And anyways,” she continues, “It was never supposed to be me. I was never supposed to be the one to love you, we both know that. It was never us. We never had a chance. We never loved each other.”

“Did we ever even like each other?” sardonic – and she laughs, high and rueful, at that.

“You know what your real problem is?” Her voice takes on that especially vicious tone she likes to use sometimes, the one that makes his bones itch inside the confines of his skin. “You’re selfish, Joel. You– you just want me here–”

Now that makes him laugh.“I’ve told you many times… you’ve got no obligation to me, Eva.” He sits heavily on the sofa, elbows braced on his spread knees, staring unseeingly ahead. He thinks that his voice sounds so tired, so unlike the sort of man he wishes he was, a creature he hardly even recognizes anymore. “If you wanna go, then go. I won’t stop you. I won’t hold you back. I won’t resent you for it. I won’t turn our daughter against you afterwards. I’ll respect your decision.”

“That’s not true! You forced my obligation to the two of you when you let me come back. You should’ve never taken me back, you knew it wasn’t what I really wanted. I–”

He shakes his head, “You’re talkin’ nonsense. You can’t cast the blame of your guilt on me because I– I– what? Because I let you come back into our daughter’s life after you abandoned her? That makes no fuckin’ sense, and you know it.” He points a finger down the dark hall towards the room where Sarah sleeps, peaceful and unaware. “You will always have an obligation to that little girl – no matter how far you go or what you do or what you think of me. You will always have an obligation to her. Even if you don’t see it through… even if you leave – it’ll always be there, by virtue of the simple fact that you’re her mother, and no matter how badly you’d like to escape that, you never can.”

“You think I wanted to give up my freedom again? Once I’d gotten it back? But I– I, I felt so – like I was supposed to be here – like it’s what the world expected of me. So here I fucking am – miserable and stuck with you.”

“Evie, darlin’, I’ve never wanted you miserable,” he says softly, reverting back to that nickname he sometimes called her, when they were trying especially hard to get along, when things weren’t, in the rare occasion, so terribly fraught between them. “I told you from the very start of all this, that what happened would be up to you. The decisions were yours to make, and I’d support you in whatever you wanted. I never wanted to force you to do anything you didn’t want to.”

“Well, I didn’t want to have a baby with you!”

He clenches his jaw tight. “Then you shouldn’t have.” He is trying very, very hard to keep a controlled grip on his anger.

“So, what, I should’ve gotten an abortion? Is that what you would have preferred? Gotten rid of her?” He feels very close to rage, hearing her talk of Sarah like this, but he forces deep breaths in and out of his lungs. Tries to remain calm and rational.

“If that’s what you wanted – I told you that if that was what you wanted I’d have supported you.”

She laughs, cruel and broken. “Please, you would’ve fucking hated me.”

“And?” That wipes the jagged smirk off her face. “I wouldn’t have – I would’ve understood, of course I would have – we were fucking strangers, but even if I did hate you – what the fuck does it matter? I didn’t even know you. What would it have mattered?”

She’s silent at that, almost stunned, for it’s the truth. They’d been complete strangers then. In many ways, they still were now, even after the birth of a child together, after three years of marriage. They didn’t really know each other, not in the intimate or tender ways that made up a real marriage.

“That wasn’t an option for me.”

“I know. And I accepted that.”

“You should’ve never asked me to marry you.”

His eyes flutter shut, frustration surging again. “I felt it was the right thing to do at the time.”

“But now?”

“What do you want? You want to hear that I regret it? That this was the worst mistake of my life? You want me to tell you that I’ll stay with you forever? What do you want to hear? I don’t– I don’t know how to make this better for us anymore.” He is terrified that his most terrible and painful truth is that he would force himself to remain trapped in this purgatory with her, despite everything else, for Sarah. He is the man that he is, after all. One who is acutely aware that when you try to force yourself into a shape you were never meant to be, it turns you into an angry thing – embittered, cruel, despondent. It’s what they had done to each other.

She goes quiet, almost deflates, “No. I’m miserable. You’re miserable. You’re in love with another woman.”

He can’t say anything at that – the mention of you in this terrible space they’re creating with their words and their anger feels wrong. You don’t belong here. Although, he has the sudden flash of a thought that part of him wishes very much that you were here right now anyways, sitting in that chair in the corner, if only so that he could turn to look at you, find comfort and strength in your warm gaze. All he can do is nod.

Suddenly, all the fight and venom seems to leak out of her, and she says very quietly, very sadly: “I don’t want to be with you for the rest of my life, trapped here in this place I never should have ended up in, in the first place. I don’t want to be here at all.”

He nods, “It’s your decision. I won’t condemn or judge you for it.”

“Wouldn’t you like to make any decisions for yourself?

“I made my decisions. I’m living with them now.”

“You sound like you’re being punished.”

“Maybe in some ways I am.” You don’t want to be with him anyways, what difference does it make?

“Wouldn’t you like to decide to be with her? Because honey, with three of us it’s a sideshow. You think I don’t know how you feel about her? That I haven’t seen the way you look at her? I’ve known since the start, and I’m glad for you.” And he knows that despite all the rest, she is sincere in this.

“Just three?” he laughs, ignores the rest. “Surely there’s more of us than that.”

“Oh, suddenly you’re funny?”

“You really think there’s anything about this I find funny?” he spits, anger surging up inside of him again, hot and bright. “I suppose it’s laughable. We sure have turned ourselves into one big fuckin’ joke. But I don’t think we’re the ones that should be laughing.”

“No… you’re right… we’ve turned each other into such sad and terrible creatures,” she says then.

“Maybe. If so, I’m sorry for that. It’s not what I wanted.”

“No– me either. None of this was.” And he knows she means Sarah. She’d never wanted Sarah, but he can’t focus on that now or perhaps, ever. Sometimes it was just easier to not look at a thing, to swallow it and pretend it’d never existed. He closes his eyes and brings a shaking hand up to drag down his face.

“This is a broken marriage,” she says.

And he knows it is true. “Yes.”

“No true marriage at all.”

“No.”

“It is no great loss.”

“But it still hurts.” Also the truth. It hurts him for his daughter, for the breaking of a family – even theirs, as elusive or damaged as it was.

“Only because you hate to fail at anything.” There is so much resentment in her eyes, and he can’t tell whether it’s for him or for herself or for the entire fractured thing. He so wishes that he could have done things differently, that things had happened differently. But then, if things had happened differently, he, perhaps, would not have Sarah now, and she was worth all of this, she had always been worth all of this.

He shakes his head. “Because we have a daughter together.” He feels so interminably sad for the both of them. For all they cannot and have not had. For all Sarah will not have.

“Was it really ever together? She’s yours. She’s always been more yours than she ever was mine. I don’t feel bad or wrong saying that. Some women aren’t meant to be mothers. Some women have children when they aren’t meant to be mothers. This is not a sin. I am not made evil by my lack of maternal instinct. I love her. I do. Despite whatever you may think, I do, I always have. But I was never supposed to have children. I was never supposed to be a mother. It was never in my nature. And anyways, it’s why she has you. She’s never needed me because she’s always had you.”

He looks down the dark hall towards his little girls room. They’d put up those glowing sticky stars on her bedroom ceiling this afternoon and construction paper butterflies they’d cut out together, hanging from fishing line between the stars. When she woke up tomorrow he didn’t think she’d have her mother here anymore, would not have her by her side, probably, for a very long time, if ever. How was he supposed to tell her that? How was he supposed to help her through that? He didn’t know if he had the strength, the intelligence, to navigate such a difficult thing. But he didn’t have a choice either. He’d have to find everything she needed from him somehow, somewhere – he would.

“Every little girl needs her mom… but she also needs structure in her life, stability – she deserves to have that. You need to make a decision, a real one, for her sake. I won’t have her waiting by the phone, watching out the window for you for years and years.”

“I won’t be coming back this time,” and although he was expecting it, already knew, he still flinches, like a bullet punching through the space in his heart where he holds Sarah. He nods anyway. “I do– please, I do want you to know that I’m sorry. That I wish it was different. Please, tell her that, tell her to forgive me.”

He wonders why it is, that in the equation of crime and absolution, forgiveness is always the faction that is most readily expected – demanded even? Despite the hurt being something so, so terrible. But he promises that he will, anyway.

Eva’s gone the next morning.

Two weeks later, he gets divorce papers in the mail, and he tells Sarah that her mother will not be returning this time – cradles her little body in his arms with equal measures of as much gentleness and strength as he can muster while she cries.

Chapter .8

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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majestyjun · 9 months

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Yandere Beomgyu who is so romantic but also crazy is so hot. Like him bringing u roses but at the same time he’s be covered in blood 💕. Or him getting you promise rings that mean you’ll always stay with him and then he locks you up and never lets you out so it’s just you and him together forever :(((. Just him being so in love and cliche but also insane and jealous and toxic and willing to do anything to make sure he’s the only person to ever see u :(( <333

(Also I read ur guidelines and it said that assault is not something ur comfortable with so if anything in here makes u uncomfortable I apologize and please ignore it ! <3)

eeek this is literally from the beginning of july i’m so late but um got a bit carried away and wrote hard thoughts >< (minors dni, nsfw content !!)

thinking about yandere beomgyu who’s absolutely insane, locking you up in his bedroom he’s ridden of all sharp objects, heavy items,,, his pretty doll kept in his room like a dirty secret. and he’s so sweet, cuddling with you playfully before he leaves for the day,,, but tying up your wrists with a rope tied to his bed frame and whispering a threat laced with love into your ear if you dare to leave him. madly stained with blood as a slasher, beomgyu who returns at night with his face splattered in blood, a bouquet of roses in hand as he locks the door behind him, leaning in to give you a sugar sweet kiss as if he hadn’t slashed someone who dared to even bother him,,, and beomgyu’s kisses that quickly grow heated, tossing aside the flowers as his hands pin your bound wrists above your head, slotting himself between your legs as he pulls away, blood on his cheek and your saliva on his lips.

love you so, so much,,, say you love me, beomgyu sighs, his chocolate eyes crazed with so much insane love, god, he’s never felt so much for someone before… knowing you’re kept in his room away from harm, only he can see you, fuck, it drives him so insane <3 and knowing only he can see you like this, whispering you love him back, so vulnerable beneath him. sweet kisses and making out as beomgyu holds your bound hands, his body pressed to yours as he fantasizes how much more he can make you his,,, and slipping up the shirt of his he always makes you wear as he presses kisses to your neck, biting in to leave a lasting mark. love you so, so much, beomgyu moans, tugging away your panties,,, fuck, he’s so in love with the tears and scared whimper you always let escape at the sight of his size,,, only his cock can have your pussy,,, after all, he’s the one who took your innocence, and he’s the only one who will ever make love to you <3 groaning as he stretches out your tight cunt, impatiently pushing in as you writhe beneath him, and deep thrusts that hit your sweet spot as beomgyu ruthlessly fucks your pussy, relentlessly marking your skin with bites, panting out his love for you as you become one,,, and deep inside, you can’t help but love him back, the twisted lover of yours who’s marked your body with his love, he’s truly the only one who could love you like this.

his cheek splattered with a small spray of dried blood as he proclaims his love over and over… beomgyu’s all yours. lips mashing against yours in a messy, sloppy kiss in his control, hot cum filling you up so full as you whimper and take him so well,,, god, he’s kill everyone who’s ever seen you just to keep you to himself,,, and holding your beautiful face in his hand and undoing the restraints,,, kiss his lips and whisper your love for him as he feels the promise ring he’s placed on your finger, matching the ring hangs from the chain around his neck. love me forever, beomgyu whispers, holding your body to his, his seed warming your tummy and big cock nestled deep inside, sweetly making out under the cover of night,,, he’s never been happier. and it feels so wrong, doesn’t it~? to love this lovesick murderer, who dreams of only you, who locks you up away from the world… but loves you more than anyone ever could.

and beomgyu will never share you with the world, locked away in his bedroom, a rope tied to your ankle forever keeping you here. because his promise ring is stained with blood he’s bled for you, as he wipes your existence away from the world, until every living person who’s ever known you is vanished, until you’re truly only his. because that is what love means to beomgyu, your insane lover <3

omg i love toxic txt too much this is troublesome ahaha

#txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #beomgyu smut #txt smut #mille.inbox #mille.anon

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sporesgalaxy · 11 months

Text

good morning on this fine friday at 5am my time! circe clawthorne jumpscare.

I truly think this is very very close to final, moreso than usual lol. I'm quite happy with this

I really can't tell if it would be more difficult for me to try and convert this into proper paragraphs or make it a comic...

well here it is. but wait there will be more!

•••

?: [distantly] Philip?

?: [closer] Philip!

?: Philip Wittebane!!!

P: [weirded out cuz hes in the middle of the woods] What in the–

C: [running up to him excitedly] Philip!!! It’s SO good to see you again!!!

P: [backing away] See me again? Do we know each other, Miss?

C: !

C: Come on, Philip!

C: Surely the King of the Witch Hunters can recognize the Dread Witch Beezelbella when he sees her!

—

P: …

C: [smile falters nervously] ...

[Philip bolts]

C: Wh- Philip!

[He sprints through the woods as fast as he can, but weaving between the trees slows him down.]

[Circe suddenly cuts Philip off, riding on her staff]

P: [flinches away from her so violently that he falls on his ass] GAH!!

C: What are you running away for?!

P: [shielding his face, peeking at her erratically, as if afraid to look directly at her for too long] You’re not real!! You’re some cruel illusion!!

P: Sent to– to torment me, or tempt me to forfeit my soul to the devil!

P: Well it WON’T WORK!! So– gh– [flails his hands in her general direction] BEGONE!

–

C: No no no no! No tricks, I promise!

C: [REALIZES SHE IS LEVITATING] Ah!!! Er…

[she jumps off the staff and holds it behind her conspicuously, too frantic to remember to store it as a palisman]

C: [smiling nervously] I meant to save that for later!

P: [STARING]

C: Here. :) [holds out her free hand to help him up]

P: [looks somewhere btwn angry and scandalized]

[Philip pushes himself further away from her before standing up on his own. He struggles a little because he now seems reluctant to take his eyes off her. Circe looks saddened but not entirely surprised.]

C: Really, I--

[tries to gesture, but is still holding the staff in one hand, and ends up accidentally swinging it towards Philip.]

[Philip flinches again, and stares at it like it might explode.]

[Circe quickly reduces the staff to just a bird and pockets the palisman in her cloak]

C: [smiling apologetically, holding up palms to show she’s unarmed] I’d never dream of hurting you!!

C: [looking at him and still smiling but with pleading, sad eyes] You know that, don't you Philip? No matter how we've changed, I...I'll always love you.

P: [mentally recalculating] …I...see.

C: [beams] Yes!! I pinky promise! [holds out pinky for a second, but quickly drops it]

P: [less defensive body language, but still clearly a little wary] Hm…

–

C: [a bit nervier] Ah-- before we go any further, I need to re-introduce myself!!

P: [skeptical] Re-introduce?

C: [trying to stay chipper but looking more stressed] I know I look different, but it’s…it’s still me!! [she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, looking a bit uncomfortable] See?

P: The…Dread Witch Beezelbella.

C: [frustrated] Your sis– your sibling!!! You know, the one who raised you?? Who spent all those years putting gruel on the table??

P: [frowning] The one who died seven years ago.

C: Er– well– I had to...go away for a while. But I’m here now!!

C: [trying to bulldoze through it] And really hardly anything has changed!

C: I've simply learned I’m much happier being your sister! That’s not too complicated, is it? You understand, don’t you??

P: I…suppose–

C: [bulldozing again] Spectacular!!!!

C: So, you’ll call me Ci– [seems to realize something] Er…just C.C. is fine for now! [nervy smile]

[Philip gives her a perplexed look]

C: Probably easier and, er…good for an Adjustment Period! [nods to herself]

P: [mostly just baffled] …C.C.

C: [nodding more] You've got it!! Same person, new gender! None of the old name and no man words, pretty please!

P: --

C: [before Philip can reply] Great!!!

C: Now, with all THAT out of the way: It’s YOUR turn! [stepping closer to him, as though she wants to hold his hands] Tell me everything! How are you?! What’s happened while I was gone? What have you been up to??

–

P: [leaning away] Oh. Er…

P: I’m…doing very well. I… [“thinks”, bringing a finger to his chin a little too theatrically]

P: …Goodness, so much has changed, I’m not even sure where to start!

P: Really, you ought to just visit the house with me and see what’s changed for yourself. [grabs her arm and gently tugs]

C: [Withdraws, very nervous] Oh, no no no, I can't go into town.

C: You and I of all people should know how–!

C: --!

C: [Squints]

P: …Is something the matter?

C: [Squints harder]

C: ...Do NOT Witch-hunt me, Philip!!!!

P: I have no idea what you’re talking about. I'm only trying to show you--

C: Oh for goodness' sake, NO!!!! I will NOT set foot in that town EVER again!!

P: ...Then you should wait here for just a moment, and I'll return shortly– [beginning to walk away]

C: [Grabs his arm to stop him leaving] [exasperated] I am not an idiot, Philip!!!

C: [sighs] Look, I know this is going to be difficult for you to accept, but magic didn't turn me evil! I'm still just ME!

P: [MAIDENLESS STARE]

–

[Circe continues holding Philip’s arm to keep him there, and for now, he lets her.]

C: As it turns out, you DON’T have to sell your soul for magic! We were completely wrong about it!

P: [EXTREMELY skeptical] Is that so?

C: [frustrated] It’s true! I could prove it to you!

C: ...Well, I guess I can’t PROVE that I still have a soul. Not that I know of. [to herself] I wonder if there’s a spell for that…

P: [extremely sarcastic] Perhaps we ought to enlighten the entire town to the existence of this fascinating *benign sorcery*.

C: [annoyed] Really, Philip?

P: Well, why not?? Since you can *prove* that it’s harmless, let's go prove it to everybody! It would make our lives *so* much easier…

C: Stop it.

—

P: Why, no one would have to do chores ever again!

C: Philip!

P: Maybe we could all be in one big witch’s coven together--

C: ENOUGH!!

C: You've been clear enough already!!!! You still don't like magic, and you don't trust me!!!

C: [takes a deep breath] ...

[Gently, Circe lets go of Philip's arm, which she had been gripping rather tightly.]

[She watches as though expecting Philip to bolt again, but he doesn't.]

[She fidgets with her sleeve as she continues.]

C: Philip, please. Just...just listen to me for a moment.

P: [Opens mouth, looking indignant]

C: [cutting Philip off] You don't have to believe me! I know that you...probably won't. I had hoped--

C: [doesnt finish that thought, looking bitterly sad]

C: ...There's something I need to tell you, but I want to know you'll listen.

P: [scoffs] Why bother if you know I won't fall for it?

C: Because...! Because I have to do something!

C: ...Philip--

[She reaches toward him, and he shrinks back.]

P: You've been gone for nearly a decade.

C: ... [confirmingly guilty face]

P: It took you that long to-- to bother telling me anything?!

P: Why in the hell would I want to believe that?!

—–

P: How could I?!

P: How could I possibly believe that you’d *vanish without a trace,*

P: and then– *reappear out of thin air,* just because-- what, the whim finally struck you???

C: No--! It-- it wasn't a whim, Philip, I would never--!

P: [pulling at his hair] AGH!! Then where have you *been??!!!* Why come back *now??!*

C: I-- it's difficult to explain--

P: I spent YEARS trying to hunt down that *witch*–!

[Circe grimacing/wincing rxn shot]

P: [gesticulating wildly] YEARS hopelessly wondering what might’ve become of you!!!!!

P: I WASTED my LIFE searching for answers!!!!

P: Of course I don't want to believe this!! That you could have come back this whole time, but-- [voice breaking]

P: ...But you chose not to.

–

C: 😟

P: [still angry, but quieter now] And what a cruel joke it would be, for you to finally be here.

P: [hand gravitating towards knife on belt] After I’d finally managed to give *up* on you.

[Circe wants to hug him. She wishes he were still small enough that she could pick him up and squeeze him with all her might. But she thinks better of it. No matter how much she loved Philip, she couldn't afford to trust him right now.]

[Philip's hand is hovering over the spot where Circe knows his knife sheath to be. She feels her heart break a little more.]

[She steadily meets his eyes and keeps her hands at her sides, ready to pull out her staff if necessary. She won't be able to hurt him the way he's apparently resolved to hurt her, but she could run away.]

[She had desperately hoped that Gravesfield's claws wouldn't be sunken so deeply into him, but she knew what it took to survive there. And he had been forced to survive it even longer than her.]

C: ...I’m sorry, Philip.

P: ...

C: I'm sorry for leaving you in Gravesfield alone.

C: I didn't think I had a choice.

[Circe shifts her weight uncomfortably. It feels wrong, measuring how she speaks to Philip, her brother, the person who knew her better than anyone not too long ago. But he isn't the only one she's protecting anymore.]

C: ...truthfully, I…

[It feels loathesome to admit after so many years of spending so much of her energy hiding it.]

C: …I thought you would be better off without me.

—

P: [genuine confusion] ...What?

C: You're a genius, Philip. I knew you could do anything you put your mind to. Make a real future for yourself.

C: But I-- I could barely even keep us fed until we--

C: [looking terribly guilty] ...started working together.

C: I thought that once you could take care of yourself...

C: You could have a normal, happy life. Without me.

P: [pissed] And how do you know that you couldn't be a part of it!? You ran away before you even tried!!

C: I tried for years!! All my trying ever did was put targets on our backs!!!

C: [bitterly] Because I couldn't hold down any job but the most dangerous in Gravesfield.

---

P: What targets?! We were heroes!

P: If you had just stayed, if you had never listened to that witch, we still would be!!

P: Did she say I'd be better off without you?! Is that how she convinced you to leave?!

C: [low, serious] No.

C: I... [ashamed] ...I made up my mind before I met Evelyn.

C: I had already decided you were better off without me.

C: [intense] She's the reason I'm still here to discuss it with you.

P: [shocked, unsettled, doesn't want to process that]

P: That...that can't be true! Everything was fine until she came along!! This was all her fault!!

P: You'd still be normal if it weren't for her!!!

C: [angry on Evelyn's behalf] No!!! I was never normal!!!!

C: And you were the only person who couldn't seem to tell!!!

C: [tearing up] It was going to get us both killed, sooner or later!!!

C: *I* was going to get us killed, because I'm like this!! Because *I* can't live a normal life!!

C: I wanted to protect you. To make your life easier than mine had been, but--

P: You were protecting me just fine before you ran away!!!

P: And what's this nonsense about us getting killed?! We were heroes! We saved the whole town from evil!

C: We were never heroes! We weren't saving anyone!

C: We punished people who didn't fit in!

P: Didn't "fit in??"

P: We punished monsters!! Demons who tortured our neighbors!!

P: Any one of those witches would have sacrificed all of Gravesfield to the Devil had we not stopped them!!

C: And what about us, Philip?!

C: Is there anyone in Gravesfield we wouldn't have sacrificed, had the court willed it?!!

C: [crying] We were such hypocrites!

C: The suspicion, the accusations-- it was exactly the way they used to treat us!! We were outsiders, too!!

P: [falters. that kinda gets to him but he wants to pretend it didnt]

C: [miserable] I justified so many awful things to myself. To you.

C: All because I was too scared to see the truth.

C: And once I finally did...I was too gutless to ask you to face it.

C: We were never any better than anyone else.

C: All of it...

C: It was just murder.

P: [not as much conviction] Don't be ridiculous--!

C: Don't be naive!!

P: ...

C: ...

C: ...I am truly sorry, Philip.

C: I'm sorry that I got us into this mess.

C: I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you like I was supposed to.

C: I was rash. And stupid. But I only ever wanted to keep you safe.

C: ...I still want you to be safe. I'd hoped you could understand, but...

C: [difficult for her to give up on him] ...if you refuse to listen...there's nothing that I can do.

P: [trying to not want it to be real] ...

[Philip looks conflicted, frustrated, trying to find his anger and righteousness again]

P: I-- rrgh!! You're impossible!!!

[He begins to walk in one direction, pulling at his hair, then suddenly turns on his heel and walks the other way again]

P: [exasperated, tring to convince himself] Literally! This is-- this is all impossible...!

[He buries his face in his hands and plops down on a log with an angry grunt]

[Circe watches him, wondering what he’s thinking now.]

[After he just sits there with his face in his hands for a moment, she slowly approaches and sits carefully next to him.]

P: [he is resting his elbows on his legs. He clasps his hands, uncovering his face, forehead against his intertwined fists.]

P: ...

[shot of Circe looking at him sadly]

–

C: …Are you happy in Gravesfield?

P: [Hands still clasped, his eyes open, looking into the woods] …

C: Philip?

P: [flatly] That doesn’t matter.

C: [Leaning forward, trying to look in his eyes] …It matters to *me*…

[Philip unclasps his hands but remains hunched over. He instead holds his elbows, which still rest on his legs. Does not look at Circe.]

P: [cold] So you say.

[Circe shrinks back]

[the two sit in silence for a moment. Birds chirp, and the bare tree branches sway in the breeze above them.]

–

C: [quietly] …are the trials as bad as they used to be?

P: …

P: [even tone] Less frequent.

C: [hopeful] That’s good.

P: … [furrows his eyebrows]

C: Do you still–

P: Yes.

C: [saddened] …

P: I am protecting people.

P: I’ve prevented what happened to you from happening again a dozen times over.

[Circe pales. Philip still is not looking at her.]

P: [clearly bitter about something] I’m *careful.* [seeming more vexed than proud] I’ve done more research than *anyone.*

C: [examining his face] …Research?

P: …

C: [dawning ] Do they *understand* that’s what your doing?

P: [intensely, looking only at the ground] It doesn’t matter. I can prove it.

C: [scared] Philip, are you in danger?

P: [breaks a twig off a branch on the fallen log with his left hand] [curtly] *No.*

P: [looks annoyed at the stick momentarily. passes it to his right hand] Because *I* am not a witch.

P: [slightly hesitant] …obviously.

—-

[Philip starts doodling in the dirt with the twig]

C: [losing patience with his stubborness] Do you honestly still believe that only real witches get accused? Get *punished?*

P: [stops drawing. gives her an angry sideways glance. then glares at the dirt again] …

P: …*Yes.*

P: As long as you do it *correctly.*

C: [furrows eyebrows] ……

[Philip resumes, scratching the dirt more forcefully.]

C: But–

P: Witches die because they are born doomed.

[as he says “doomed,” Philip finishes drawing The Belos Mask with a final, forceful scratch]

C: That’s what we were *told*. That doesn’t mean it’s true.

[Circe looks at Philip, expression somewhere between grim and pleading, but he won’t look up from his sketch]

——

P: [darkly] What does that mean for you, then?

[Circe is taken off-guard]

P: Do your witch-friends know what you used to do?

P: Or are you lying to them, too?

C: I–!

C: …

C: [quieter] …Not all of them know.

P: [snidely] Hmph.

C: [with a bit more conviction] But the ones that *do* know…

C: They know that I was scared. And trying to keep us safe.

C: There are people who understand that I truly thought I was doing the right thing.

C: [guilt] That I would give anything to undo it now…

C: [focusing on Philip again] They trust me, and love me, even though I’ve made…terrible mistakes. Even though I’ll *always* make mistakes.

C: [trying REALLY hard to get through to Philip] *Gravesfield isn’t all there is.*

P: …

[Philip scratches out the doodle forcefully.]

P: [unhappily] Good for you.

—-

[a prolonged beat of silence, save Philip’s stick scraping against the ground as he scribbles slowly, randomly on the spot where the doodle used to be]

C: ...If you want–

[suddenly, Philip throws his stick to the ground and turns to Circe]

P: [frustrated noise] Would you just get this over with already?!

C: [taken aback] What?

P: For Christ's sake, I don’t care what you want anymore!! Just take it!!!

P: You win! Enough with this awful vision!!

C: [baffled] Wha–! I-I’m not–! You still don’t believe that I’m real?!

——-

P: You *can’t* be!

P: [breaking a little] I only *want* you to be real!

P: I *want* you to be *alive*!

P: I don’t *want* to be *alone* any longer!!

P: But you insist on dragging out this awful charade!!

P: [becoming more desperate than angry] Why can’t you just lie to me?!

P: Tell me that you never wanted to leave at all!! That you're back for good! That nothing’s changed!!

P: *Something*– *anything* that’s actually easy to go along with!!! Isn't that what you're supposed to do?!

[Circe looks hurt]

P: Don't I even get to die thinking that I could be reunited with– with you?!

P: [losing steam] …What could you possibly want that you haven’t had the chance to take from me already…?

[a beat. Circe’s expression has closed off considerably. Philip rubs his face for a moment, then looks up again.]

P: Please. Get it over with. Kill me, or whatever it is you came here to do.

P: Or for God’s sake leave me be.

[wide shot of them sitting in unhappy silence]

——

C: [very quietly] …Alright.

[Circe stands, brushes her skirt off. Philip remains sitting, not looking at her]

C: I suppose I’ve done all that I can, then.

P: …

C: I won’t disturb you again.

P: …….

C: I’m still thankful that I could see you one last time.

P: ………..

C: [trying to keep composed] Please…stay safe. Take care of yourself.

P: ……………..

—

C: I love you.

P: …………… … …

C: [offscreen] Goodbye, Philip.

[she walks away]

[a beat passes]

[Philips resolve breaks. As he looks up–]

P: Ca– C.C., I–

[–he realizes he is alone again.]

P: ….

P: [slowly, he stands. brushes his jacket off. walks away.]

#circe clawthorne #toh #suicide mention #<- still just implicative but closer to explicitly referenced now #ohhh they both have so many problems. yippee!!!!

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angstysebfan · 11 months

Text

You Matter To Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: This is based on the song “You Matter To Me” from Waitress the Musical. It’s not a replica of what happens in the play, but the words in the song. Song lyrics are in italics. Warnings: Slight Angst, Sad Lonely Reader, Fluff

A/N: I’ve wanted to rewrite this fic for awhile. The story is the same, but I didn’t like how I did it the first time. I hope you all enjoy it even more than before. Please know that my stories were no beta’d or edited, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes or misspellings. Also please note again I am rewriting most if not all of my masterlist, so if you read my stories, be prepared cause most of them are going to be fixed if they haven’t already lol.

I can find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes They see things you never quite say, but I hear Come out of hiding, I’m right here beside you and I’ll stay there as long as you let me

You’re in your living room of your small one bedroom apartment, slow dancing with him. He holds you close and sings softly into your ear as you release a sigh of contentment. You never in a million years thought that you could ever find the happiness you’re currently engulfed in. People assume that being the only child of the rich and famous (your dads name), your life is set and happiness is a given. You know for a fact that it's not true, as you purposely ran away from the "rich kid" life the moment you were able to.

Your parents always treated more like a burden then their child. You were practically raised by nannies because they didn't want to give up the partying lifestyle. They never once celebrated the day you were born, always going out with friends on trips or something instead. When they were home, you were never allowed to make any noise or be a normal kid because they considered that a disturbance.

As you got older, you started to resent your life. Any "friends" you made didn't really care about you at all. They wanted to be seen with the daughter of the famous Y/F/N, the richest man in the country. They knew if the paparazzi saw them with you, they would be on Page Six and be set. You never wanted to be the center of attention. It never interested you, but you also didn't want to be used. You found yourself feeling very lonely all the time, even in a crowded room.

Eventually, when you were old enough, you ran away from that life. You wanted as much separation as possible. Your parents wouldn't care anyway, so you didn't move far. You found yourself in the middle of Brooklyn working as a waitress as a small diner. It didn't pay much, but it helped you afford your tiny shoebox apartment that you loved and food. You felt like you were finally free and happy. You started going out more, and even made some real friends who liked you for your personality, rather your wealth, since you no longer had any.

Once night you were out with some friends and were sitting at a bar. Nursing your cranberry vodka, you kept thinking how much your life has improved, and how much happier you were without your parents money. You suddenly saw someone sit next to you and you looked over with a smile. You would lie if you said he wasn't the most handsome man you have ever seen. He had short brown hair, the bluest eyes imaginable, and a strong jawline partially hidden under some scruff. When he looked at you and smiled, your heart immediately fluttered.

Because you matter to me Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody You matter to me, I promise you do, you matter too I promise you do, you’ll see You matter to me

You found yourself falling into easy conversation with the handsome man, whose name was Bucky. You learned he was a mechanic who lived in the same neighborhood as you, and that he grew up in Brooklyn to middle class parents and knew the value of hard work. It was refreshing to say the least. Listening to how his parents supported him and his siblings with their aspirations and dreams, no matter what they were. You were jealous, because your parents couldn't give a damn about you. Hell they never even tried to find you when you left. Bucky tried to ask about your life, but you weren't ready to hash that out, so you just quickly changed the subject. He smiled and decided to go with it.

You and Bucky start to hangout more often and you find yourself falling... hard. He would take you on little dates around Brooklyn, and you both would stay out late just talking about things. You wanted to tell him about your past, but you were scared it would scare him away. When he wanted to treat you to a fancy restaurant in Manhattan that you know your parents frequent, you immediately decline. You felt it was time to finally tell him the truth about yourself. Bucky sat with you, holding your hand as you told him all about your upbringing and your thoughts and feelings about your parents. You were in awe when you were done he pulled you to him and kissed you.

"I can't imagine how hard that much have been for you," he said with no sarcasm.

You then and there that he actually cared about you and your feelings. He didn't think you were some spoiled brat that didn't get enough attention. He knew money was not important to you, and that all you've ever longed for was to be loved. He wanted to be the one to show you the love you've always deserved, and hopefully you can let him in. And maybe love him just as much in return.

It’s addictive the minute you let yourself think The things that I say, just might matter to someone, All of this time I’ve been keeping my mind on the running away For the first time I think I’d consider the stay.

At first you were worried when Bucky asked you to move in with him. Yes, you had been dating for over a year, and yes you cared for him with ever fiber of your being, but you still had hesitations when he said it back. You kept telling yourself he really loved you and to let him in, but it was harder to do than you realized. Bucky was always patient and understanding. He allowed you to take your time and really think about it with no pressure. But you wanted to let him in so bad. He's been so good to you, so you finally agree to move in.

It took some time for you to get used to Bucky constantly wanting to take care of you. You've always taken care of yourself, so to have him wanting to do that was surprising. He constantly tells you how much you mean to him, but you still find it hard to believe sometimes. He buys you flowers every week, takes you on small romantic trips, and cooks you dinners. Your walls slowly start crumbling little by little as you let him in, because you know you are as much in love with him, as he seems to be with you. Every day when you come home from work, he asks about your day, and generally cares. He pays attention to every word you say, he laughs at jokes you make, gets irritated when hearing about stupid customers, or holds you as you cry after a hard frustrating day. He's there every time you need him, and even when you don’t.

You are there for him just as much, knowing that a true relationship means you both have to give the same amount. As time goes on, your walls around your heart are gone, and you've completely given your heart to Bucky. He and his family have welcomed you with open arms, and you never felt as loved and accepted as you do with him. When he dropped to one knee to ask you to be his wife, you didn't hesitate for a second before saying yes, because there was no other answer.

Because you matter to me Simple and plain and not much to ask from somebody You matter to me, I promise you do, you matter too I promise you do, you’ll see You matter to me

You look up at your fiancee and smile before giving him a soft kiss. You then look at the small diamond on your finger with so much happiness. Bucky apologized it wasn't bigger, but you told him, and you meant it, that you wouldn't want anything more than what he has given you. Your life is perfect as long as you have him, and are in his arms. Bucky was everything you didn’t know you needed in your life.

For the first time, you feel loved and cherished. You feel like you finally matter to someone. Not just someone, Bucky Barnes, the man you love and are going to spend the rest of your life with.

Bucky is so fucking amazing in this story. I love him so much! Feedback is appreciated! Also if you wish to be apart of my new taglist, please let me know.

Permanent Taglist: @rebekahdawkins @marajade1974 @missvelvetsstuff @phillygirl77 @pattiemac1 @winterslove1917 @vampire7595

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #Bucky angst #bucky and reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #slight angst #fluff #you matter to me

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