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#but he said i looked lovely in my dress at the end of the night
Note
BBYG PART TWO OF GUILTY AS SIN PLEASE I LUV UR WORKSSSS
i hope you guys enjoy this!! i had a lot of fun with it. it’s technically part two but i gave it a different title sorry :)
~~~
Fresh Out The Slammer
James Potter x f!reader
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warnings: smut, protected p in v, fingering, slight oral (f receiving), very slight underage alcohol but barely, morally idk how good this is, lmk if i missed any
summary: after you and Remus finally split, you and James finally come together…
word count: 2.8k
a/n: another taylor fanfic hahaha (i love this) lmk what you guys think of the end i thought it was really clever but maybe that’s just me being overconfident…
~~~
I did my time
Now pretty baby I’m running back home to you
Fresh out the slammer
I know who my first call will be to...
~~~
When you look back on your days at Hogwarts, you always wonder why you and Remus stayed together so long.
It was a week after your monumental conversation with James on the grass that your overdue breakup occurred. You had tried your hardest to give your relationship one last try, you really did. But one night as you laid next to the tall lanky boy, all you could think about was a certain pair of hazel eyes. A pair that didn’t belong to the boy next to you.
That was the final straw.
“Rem,” you said, your voice cool. “I think it’s best we break up.”
You kept your eyes on the canopy above, but you could feel him shift beside you. “Really?”
“Yes. In fact, I think this is overdue. Don’t you think?”
“I suppose so...” he replied.
You turned to look at him. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting calmly as could be with a book in one of his hands. A sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t say anything else. Instead, you simply stood and began to dress yourself. He was the one to speak again.
“Would it be all right if we remained friends?” He asked his eyes on you for what felt like the first time in a while.
“Of course. Let’s not make it odd for everyone else,” you answered.
He looked back down at his book. “Right. Good night then.”
On the walk back to your dorm you named every reason in your head why you broke up with Remus. He was distant. He didn’t know how to treat you like a true girlfriend. The spark had died between the two of you. The relationship had truly just run its course. But as you stepped into the common room your eyes found the most significant reason.
You refused to put him on your mental list.
~~~
You didn’t know if it was out of respect for Remus or if it was intentional at all, but James waited a few weeks before making any sort of move on you. You were glad. Adjusting to a single life was strange. You no longer spent time alone with Remus, you no longer cried or had fits because of his behavior. He was simply another one of your friends. You liked him better that way.
When James did give you a sign, it was far from subtle.
It came during Charms in the form of a small piece of paper. Of course, Charms happened to be the only class the two of you had together that Remus was not in as well. In fact, the only other member of your friend group who was in the class was Peter and he never paid much attention to anything. So, when you felt the piece of paper hit your lap, you didn’t hesitate to open it.
How’s the single life treating you so far? -J
You turned your head to look at James, a smile on your lips. He was already looking at you, a similar smile on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up as you scribbled your reply and threw it back to him.
It’s better than I expected, most things are the same.
He was quick to throw it back.
That’s true except now you’re free to do whatever you’d like..
You held in a breath.
More like whomever I’d like
You let out a shaky breath at his reply.
Yeah? Well, you know where my bed is
For a few seconds, you stared at the note, not sure if you should write anything more. You turned back to look at him and your eyes instantly met his. He looked at you with a gleam that you hadn’t seen in a boy's eyes in a long time, at least not one directed toward you. So, you picked up your quill and wrote back, not a single guilty thought crossing your mind.
I suppose I’m going to know what it feels like soon too
~~~
Another long week passed before anything happened between you and him. And each day that passed only filled you with more desire. You felt almost giddy at the thoughts. A secret hookup with James Potter. It was something you’d imagined for a long time, but for so many reasons you never imagined it would actually be brought to life.
But it was.
One night, there was a party in the Ravenclaw common room that everyone was attending. Everyone except you. Or so you thought.
“Are you sure y/n/n? It’ll be so much fun,” Lily questioned. You were all in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone else was getting ready to leave, but you sat on the couch in your bedclothes.
“Yeah, I’m not really in the party mood tonight. Plus, I have some work that still needs to be done,” you answered honestly.
“Boring!” Sirius exclaimed. “Don’t worry lovely I’ll make sure to save some alcohol for you.”
“Thanks, Sirius,” you said with a laugh.
“Let’s go, Wormtail, Moony, Prongs.”
“Actually, you lot can go without me. I’m not feeling the greatest.”
Your eyes shot to James. What was he doing? You noticed what he was wearing. A wifebeater and flannel pants. You swore you never wanted to shag him more than at that moment.
“Are you serious?” Sirius groaned. “Whatever mate you’re no fun. We’ll be back later.”
“All right, have fun,” James replied.
“Bye, y/n/n!” The girls sang as they left.
You waved them all goodbye before getting up and turning to the staircase. You could feel James’s eyes burning into you from behind.
“Seems it’s just the two of us for once,” he said, his voice quieter than before.
Your stomach filled with butterflies. “Yeah, it seems that way.”
“I was wondering if you could help me with some Charms work, I know you have the homework as well perhaps we can do it together...” From the tone of his voice, you knew it wasn’t true. But still, you turned and gave him a slight nod. “It’s all in my dorm, let’s just go up there to do it.”
Deep down, you knew you should’ve felt bad. James was your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. If any of them knew about your sinful thoughts, you’d surely be thrown out of the group and shunned. However, while that knowledge made you feel uneasy, it didn’t stop you from following him up to the dorm.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, James’s lips were on yours. Though it came as a surprise, you didn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss him back. His lips were warm and soft, just how you had always imagined. It was messy and quick and when he broke it you found yourself breathless. All you could do was stare at him, your cheeks pink.
“James I-”
“We can take our time if you’d like, I’m sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so fucking long,” he replied as if he could read your mind.
“Me too, you don’t understand.” You inhaled deeply and took a few steps deeper into the dorm you were all too familiar with. Only this time, you sat on a different bed. “This doesn’t feel real.”
He sat down next to you on his bed, his glowing hazel eyes locked on yours. “Believe me, I understand everything.”
“I just... want you,” you mumbled. It felt so good to finally say it. You placed one of your hands on his thigh. “I want you a lot.”
He smiled in a way that practically sent shivers down your spine. “I want you too.”
“So, take me. You don’t... you don’t have to be gentle,” you whispered with a confidence you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Instead of answering you with words, James leaned closer and caught your lips in another kiss. This time though, it wasn’t messy and rushed. No. It was passionate, it was a kiss that would leave you giggling on your bed when you looked back on it. As your lips moved against his you followed his lead and laid back on the mattress with your legs parted for him to slip in between.
His hands were far bigger than yours. When he slid one of them up your thigh you almost couldn’t remember how to breathe. You kissed him harder and weaved your fingers through his soft curly hair. He toyed with your shorts for a moment before carefully slipping his hand beneath the fabric. It would be an understatement to say you were wet. You were soaked. And you could feel James’s smirk on your mouth when he discovered this.
“Are you always like this?” He mumbled.
You shook your head. “Only when it comes to you.”
“Good.”
He wasted no more time and moved his fingers under your knickers, finding your clit almost instantly. You gasped, one of your hands gripped his strong shoulder tightly, and your eyes squeezed shut.
“James,” you moaned.
He began to trail wet kisses down your neck as he continued to rub soft circles on your clit. Never mind thinking straight, you couldn’t think at all. Your stomach was warm, and waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. You swore you’d never felt anything as good in your life. But when your hand brushed against his shirt you sighed.
“Take it off, take everything off. Please,” you whispered frantically.
You opened your eyes to see James’s bright smile. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without another word, he leaned back and pulled his shirt off. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. His muscles were toned, yet he was still skinny. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but you settled on dragging your fingers up and down his chest for a few seconds.
“Your turn,” he said.
You silently sat up and lifted your tank top over your head and threw it down to the floor. Perhaps it was the amount of lust that consumed you, or perhaps it was the amount of comfort you felt with James. Either way, you didn’t cower or feel insecure as his eyes moved across your naked breasts. In fact, you felt confident. So, you laid back down on his bed and began to pull your shorts and knickers down, your eyes not leaving his.
Only when you were fully naked did you feel a slight feeling of insecurity. James must’ve noticed this though because he leaned over you and pressed a sincere kiss to your lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He brushed a hand over one of your breasts. “So perfect.”
“Fuck me, James, please I can’t bear it any longer,” you replied quickly. It was true, you’d already waited so many months in silence. How were you expected to wait even a second longer?
“I think you can afford to bear it for a few more minutes. I want to have my way with you first.”
You were going to protest, but before you could he slid his hand between your thighs. He swirled his fingers over you, collecting your wetness before eventually carefully moving one of his fingers inside of you. You threw your head back and gripped his sheets hard. It was an even better feeling than you’d imagined. He kissed you hungrily as he slowly started finger fucking you.
As if that wasn’t enough, he kissed down your body minutes later before ending with his face between your thighs. You couldn’t contain your whimpers and moans. If anyone was near the Gryffindor boy's dorm, they’d surely hear you. The fact neither of you thought enough to cast a silencing charm only made it more thrilling.
By the time you reached your first orgasm, you were quite sure you’d never felt anything nearly as good in your life. Remus never cared enough to spend his time pleasuring you, at least not after the first few months. But James cared a whole lot. He touched you with his tongue and his fingers till you were shaking and panting for a break.
When he did stop you watched through heavy lids as he wiped his mouth on your thigh and began to pull down his last remaining articles of clothing. His eyes were glowing, and his glasses were almost falling off his face. You decided then that he was by far the most attractive boy you’d ever seen. And when your eyes trailed down his naked body you found yourself an even bigger reason as to why that statement was true.
“Are you on the potion?” He asked as he began to move over you.
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice weak.
He smirked. “You’re a dirty girl hm?”
“For you yes.”
“How so?”
You smiled sweetly and reached up to remove James’s glasses. “Truthfully? Sometimes I touch myself when I think of you.”
“You’ll have to show me next time.” He shifted and you felt his tip brush against your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. “Is this what you think about?”
“S-Sometimes yes,” you said with a shaky voice.
All you could do as he slowly began to thrust into you was gasp and wrap your arms around him, your nails digging into his skin. He was big and you were still sensitive from how hard you previously came. Those factors only amplified how good he felt. Once he was fully in, he leaned down to connect your lips in another heated kiss before truly starting the shag.
Though Remus would fuck you hard, he never fucked you the way James did. James went hard, he went fast, but he also showed he still cared. At one point, he removed one of your hands from his back and pressed it against the mattress, lacing his fingers through yours. And his lips were either on yours, on your neck, or whispering sweet praises. Even the way he said your name was enough to tell you how much he cared about you.
You didn’t know how long it went on, but it was long enough that he started to grow tired. At that point, you’d already reached your second orgasm, so you decided he deserved a break. With all your strength, you flipped your positions and took some control. You lowered yourself onto him and nearly came a third time from the sounds he made.
When everything was done and over, the two of you laid next to each other out of breath and shocked at what had transpired. You felt your heart pound in your chest and a sticky feeling between your thighs. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you. He, of course, was already looking at you, his glasses back on.
“That was...”
“Better than any of my fantasies,” you told him.
“Mine too,” he agreed with a smile.
You bit down on your lip. “So now what?”
“Perhaps another go?”
That was an offer you could never refuse.
~~~
Hours later, past midnight at least, the door to the boy's dorm opened and the other three Marauders stumbled in. Sirius was far too drunk; he could barely stand up straight. That left Remus and Peter to stand on either side of him with their arms wrapped around his back protectively. All their eyes found you and James after a few seconds. The two of you sat on his bed, a foot of papers between the two of you.
“Oh, hello y/n,” Peter greeted you.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Remus questioned.
Sirius only gasped overdramatically. “They’re shagging! Prongsie and Lovely are shagging!”
You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Why don’t we get you to bed?”
“Can I have a go first? Before bed? Please! Is that all right Moony?” Sirius stumbled over his words as his friends dropped him into his bed.
“Nobody’s having a go unless it is Moony,” James said.
Remus turned toward you, a questioning expression on his face. “What are you doing up here?”
You pointed at the many papers on James’s bed. “Charms homework, I told you lot that’s why I wasn’t going to the party. James felt a bit better, so we just decided to work on it together.”
“Will I be allowed to use that work?” Peter asked innocently.
“Of course, Pete,” you replied. You turned back to James’s bed where he still sat, and you began to gather your work. “I should be going then.”
You held your papers close to your chest and tried your hardest not to look at James. You knew if you did, something on your face would clearly show what had really gone on. So, you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could to their door.
“Same time next week then?” James’s voice caught your attention as you were about to leave.
You looked over your shoulder and nodded, trying your hardest not to blush. “Or sooner, I’m very eager to get this work done.”
“All right, sooner, goodnight then,” James replied with a knowing look.
The last thing you heard before leaving was the innocent voice of Peter asking if he could join in and the loud laugh that James let out.
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zanarkandskylines · 2 days
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listening to fortnight got me thinking about bakugo and reader having a very brief fling, something that happened in the past during their 20s, but stuck with both of them for years.
i touched you for only a fortnight i touched you, but i touched you
fast forward to living in the same city, the two of you now in your 30s and end up becoming neighbors by happenstance. you're both married to other people since you only talked in shared friend group settings after said fling.
all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february
you watch his wife water her flowers in the garden out back while making coffee in the kitchen every goddamn morning. you have no clue why it irks you so much, that the sight of her stupid smile makes you wanna punch her lights out.
occasionally, you run into bakugo at your mailboxes after a long day at work. small talk is the only thing you two can muster - a comment about the weather or harmless compliments about each other's appearance.
"sure rained like hell yesterday."
"nice sweater, your wife buy it for you?"
"god, it's too fucking hot today."
"that dress looks nice on ya."
one night, both of your spouses are away when a storm comes raging through the city. your power goes out, leaving you in the dark because your stupid husband forgot to replace the generator. from your windows, you see bakugo's household has power and decide to hightail it over for some company.
he answers the door with a confused look on his face. "the fuck you doin' in the rain? get in here!"
bakugo makes you a coffee to share with him in the kitchen, bullshitting through the night like you used to do as twenty somethings. it felt natural, your heart soaring as you watched him laugh and retell jokes from the past. when the conversation died down, you blurted out something you didn't plan to vocalize to anyone.
"i think my husband's cheating. sometimes i just wanna kill the bastard."
caught off guard by your admittance, bakugo quirks an eyebrow at you in response. "little extreme, but i'm sure that could be arranged."
"would be cheaper than a damn divorce. that asshole would take everything from me."
he snickers, taking another sip of his coffee. "think my wife's doin' the same. comes home late and shit, never can tell me why."
"how'd we get stuck with this shit luck?" you retort, forcing a laugh from your tightened chest.
"could be worse. we're neighbors, that's fuckin' lucky for me."
i love you...it's ruining my life.
"oh? i'm starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore."
bakugo sets his mug on the countertop, turning to face you while crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest.
"might'a convinced my wife to move here. thought maybe we could be friends again."
"so you bought a fucking house next to me instead of just calling to go to dinner?" you ask mockingly, a smirk on your face as you awaited his bullshit answer.
he shakes his head with a grin of his own. "sure did."
i love you...it's ruining my life.
"how come you never ask or invite me over then? we're literal neighbors, kats."
"pretty sure my wife's scared of ya. plus, i want time with you, not us."
that makes your heart skip a beat.
"hell of a way to say you miss me." you pause before setting your own cup down on the counter. "i'm glad you're here."
"me too."
right as he's approaching you, the front door swings open.
"babe, i'm home!" his wife calls, handful of shopping bags. she sees you standing in the kitchen aside bakugo - you give her a soft wave.
"oh, hi. i didn't expect company tonight."
"her dumbass husband forgot to replace their generator. just helpin' her out."
she gives him a glare, tilting her chin up at him, almost condescendingly, as she assesses his answer.
"how unfortunate. stay as long as you need, i'm gonna go put this away."
and with that, she leaves for their bedroom to unload her shopping haul. once she's out of earshot, you turn to bakugo and chuckle under your breath.
"oh yeah, she hates me."
bakugo rolls his eyes. "let her be miserable, it's her strong suit. come on, let's go take'a look at that generator."
the generator works just fine, you unplugged it before coming over.
you were curious if there was a spark leftover between you two, only to find the fire was not only stoked, but never fully extinguished.
blasty tags; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq ✨
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wheels-of-despair · 2 days
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Heaven and Hell (Or: Eddie and Evil Woman Do… Prom?!) Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman are *checks notes* going to prom? Like normies?! Contains: A high school prom, two nervous freaks, an ill-fitting wardrobe, an unfortunate zit, dancing, references to other E/EW fics nobody will remember, relentless teasing, a happy ending. Words: 4.5k
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"Prom's next month."
You stop playing with Eddie's hair and look down at the head lying in your lap in surprise.
He keeps his eyes on the TV. A blush creeps into his cheeks. Is Eddie Munson seriously thinking about going to prom? You fight a smile and start working your fingers through his hair again.
"Yup… that's what they said on the morning announcements."
Silence. No way he's that interested in the orange juice commercial you've seen ten times today. Eddie Munson is thinking about prom, and he's in the process of chickening out.
"You ever been?" you ask.
"Nah," he says, eyes still on the TV. "You?"
"Nah."
He bites his lip. You can't take it anymore.
"You thinkin' about going?"
He shrugs.
If you were a more patient person, you could poke and prod at him until he finally asked you. However…
"Well, if you were planning on asking me, you're too late."
He finally looks up at you, confusion on his face.
"I've rekindled my romance with Chief Hopper."
A smile spreads across Eddie's face.
"I'm sorry, Eddie," you sigh. "What we had was fun, but you just don't have the stamina. Sometimes a girl just NEEDS full night of porking."
You both snort at the same time, which leads to a fit of giggles.
When you recover, you brush his bangs out of his face. He sighs.
"So, uh…" He licks his lips while he tries to find his words. "If the bacon falls through, would you maybe think about going with me?"
You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. "Because it's kinda my last chance, and I know it's stupid, and it goes against everything I stand for, and it'll probably be miserable, and the music's gonna suck, and you probably have a way better idea of what we could do that night, but… ugh, never mind."
Eddie turns back toward the TV, shaking his head so some of his hair hides his burning face. You gently brush it back behind his ear, looking down at him with all the love in your heart.
"Eddie?"
"Hm."
"You're the only person I'd think about going to prom with."
"Really?" He looks up at you with an uneasy smile.
"Yeah," you answer, tracing the shell of his ear.
"We don't have to."
"I know," you smile. "I want to go with you." He smiles back sleepily. "But if I get Carrie'd, I can't promise I'll spare you."
"Kay," he chuckles.
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"Mother?" you ask, hovering in the living room doorway.
"Daughter?" she responds from the couch, without looking up from her book.
You take a deep breath and stare at the floor.
"Ineedapromdress."
"What?"
You sigh and raise your head. "I need a prom dress."
Her book drops to her lap, revealing wide eyes behind her glasses.
"What did you just say to me?"
"I need a prom dress," you repeat with a roll of your eyes.
"Oh my god! I have a child who's voluntarily attending a school function!"
"What's up?" Gareth asks from behind you.
"They're going to the prom!"
You slowly turn and see him looking at you in amusement.
"Shut up," you order before he can even say anything.
"She's even gonna wear a dress!" your mother shrieks.
"Shut up," you repeat, glaring at Gareth's stupid smirky face. "Kay, I'm going to bed, open to shopping suggestions and financial contributions, good night."
You squeeze past him and make a mad dash for your room.
"They're all gonna laugh at you!" Gareth warbles in his best Piper Laurie impression.
"Shut up!" you repeat one last time, then slam your bedroom door.
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"He's heeeere," Gareth announces as he passes by your bedroom door.
"You look perfect," your mom assures you.
She's been working on your makeup for fifteen minutes, and it's finally the way she wants it. And you have to admit… you look pretty damn good.
She'd taken you to the city for a day of shopping, and after several hours of hunting, you'd actually found a dress without puffed sleeves, ruffles, or tulle.
"Give me a minute, I want the camera on his face when he sees you," your mom says excitedly.
"Mother, it's a high school prom, it's not our wedding."
"Let me have this!" she whisper-yells. She grabs her camera and leaves the room.
You take one last look at yourself, stand, and slip on your shoes. Heels. You're even wearing fucking heels.
You walk down the hall and turn into the kitchen…
Eddie Munson is wearing a suit.
You'd offered to help him look for one, or find him something in the city, but he said he had it covered. And he did. He's even wearing a tie, and he's tamed his hair somehow. He looks freakishly presentable (for Eddie) and is holding what you imagine is a corsage in a box.
"Hi."
"Hey."
You stand there and stare at each other. Awkward. It's awkward.
"Eddie! Give her the corsage!" Your mom stage-whispers.
He tries to hold it out to you, but fumbles it and drops it on the floor. You both reach down to get it, and you hear a RIIIP tear through the kitchen. You both stand immediately, looking and feeling your outfits.
"Was that you or me?" you ask, trying to feel the back of your dress. You knew this fucker was too tight. But your question is answered when all the blood drains out of Eddie's panicked face.
"Let me see, honey," your mom says gently, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him. The seam in the back of his jacket has ripped.
"Dude! You Hulked out on prom night," Gareth laughs from his seat at the kitchen table.
You give him a warning shush, and for once, he obeys.
"Slip that off, I'll have it as good as new in no time." Your mom helps Eddie out of his jacket and takes it in the direction of her sewing machine. You carefully retrieve the corsage from the floor and put it on the table.
"Uh… that's for you," he mumbles, the color returning to his face.
"Thank you," you smile, leaving the box closed until your mother can return and witness this sacred and not-at-all stupid prom ritual.
You turn to Eddie and lift a hand to run through his suspiciously tame hair.
"Don't look at it," Eddie mumbles.
"Don't look at what?" you ask.
"His third eye," Gareth supplies helpfully. That's when you notice the zit between his eyes. Eddie's face reddens so much that it almost blends in. Gareth snickers. You pick up a damp kitchen towel, ball it up, and throw it at him. It hits him in the ear.
"Don't you have some place to be?" you ask pointedly.
"Nope," he grins, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Mom's taking me to Jeff's after you leave."
You roll your eyes, reach for Eddie's hand, and pull him to your bedroom.
"Sit," you instruct, pointing at your desk. He drops into the chair with a defeated sigh. You start digging through your extremely elegant shoebox full of makeup, then realize what you need. "I'll be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.
You return with a cotton ball.
"What's that?"
"Wite-Out. My make-up's too dark for you," you joke.
Eddie's brow furrows, and you apply a dab of peroxide to his unfortunate growth. When it dries, you reach for the concealer.
"What are you doing?" he asks nervously.
"Covering that up."
He sits silently and watches you reach for this and that to cover his bump, and when you stand back and smile, he frowns.
"What's wrong?" you ask. "I can wipe it off if you want, I thought you wanted it gone."
"I feel like a clown," he grumbles.
"You are a clown."
He pouts. You point at the mirror, and he leans over to see his camouflage… and his jaw drops. You lean down until your head is next to his, so you can see what he sees.
"Witchcraft," he whispers.
"You know it, babe," you wink.
"One freshly tailored suit jacket for the young lad," your mom announces as she steps into the room. Eddie stands, and she helps him into it. She brushes her hand along the seam. "Good as new!" she declares. "But no break-dancing tonight." Eddie laughs.
After the official corsage and boutonniere exchange in the kitchen, you're marched into the living room for pictures. Each pose is goofier than the last, but you aren't allowed to leave until your mom finishes off a roll of film.
You both breathe a sigh of relief when the van doors slam shut.
"You still wanna do this, or do you wanna go get blazed and hide out at my place?" Eddie asks, probably about 40% joking.
"What time is it?" you ask. Eddie consults his watch and reads the time back to you. You pretend to consider it for a second, then shake your head. "Chief Hopper is expecting me in 15 minutes, and my little piggy does not like to be kept waiting."
Eddie snorts and starts the engine. Hawkins High Prom 1986 it is.
"Where'd you get your suit?" you ask a few minutes into the surprisingly awkward drive.
"George. The thrift shop guy. Told him I needed something prom-worthy. This was his grandson's. 'He's a lanky thing, just like you,' he said."
"It's nice," you admire.
"It's a little small, but… y'know." Eddie shrugs. "Price was right."
"Is it uncomfortable?"
"It's… a little tight," he admits.
"Baby, you don't have to wear stuff if it makes you uncomfortable."
"It's fine… as long as I don't have to move my arms much."
"Is it the shirt too, or just the jacket?"
"Mostly the jacket, the shirt's got some stretch to it."
"Ditch it."
"Ticket says jacket and tie required."
"Ditch it as soon as they let us in."
"This is why you're the brains of this operation," he mumbles as he pulls into a parking spot.
"Correct," you grin.
"Stay," Eddie orders, hopping down and scrambling around the front of the van to open your door. You're suddenly reminded of your first official date; he'd tried so hard to be someone else, but you didn't want someone else. You wanted Eddie Munson, and you wanted him just the way he was. You take his hand and slide to the ground, wincing as your heels hit the pavement.
"Is your battle armor in here?" you ask, nodding toward the back.
"Of course."
"Fetch."
Eddie smirks and walks toward the back, and you shut your door and follow him. He grabs his leather jacket and patch-filled vest, and hugs the pair to his chest.
You reach for them, and he hands them over. You separate the pair while he watches nervously, like you're separating conjoined twins that he personally gave birth to.
"Lose the child-sized suit jacket," you instruct. He tries, but gets stuck almost immediately. You muffle a laugh and step behind him to help him out of it, then slide his plain leather jacket on.
He looks more comfortable already. And considerably more Eddie-like. You go to transfer his boutonniere to his jacket pocket… but he doesn't have one. A bit of quick thinking and one rip later, his dumb little flower is attached with a strip of duct tape. You step back to admire him.
"There he is," you smile.
"Now he's gotta find his girl," Eddie says, "and then they can go do this damn prom thing."
You look down at your outfit and back at him, but he's already digging… through your overnight bag?
"Eddie, what--"
He cuts you off by slapping the soles of your favorite sneakers on the floor of his van.
"You've been wincing with every damn step since you walked into the kitchen. Lose the shoes."
You grin and sit down to swap your heels for sneakers. Sneakers that Eddie vandalized during a particularly boring assembly. It was one of the reasons why they were your favorites; the boy's a ballpoint artist. The other was--oh, that's nice. You stand comfortably and breathe a sigh of relief.
"You want a little liquid courage?" Eddie asks, shaking a bottle of liquor at you.
"Sure," you answer. You each take a swig in hopes of making your night a little more bearable. Eddie stashes the bottle in the van and slams the back doors shut.
"M'lady," he says, offering an arm. You take it, and walk toward the Hawkins High gym doors. Any time now, alcohol.
A cheerleader-in-training eyes you warily, but takes your tickets and lets you pass by her table into the gym… decked out in streamers and balloons. Wicked classy, Hawkins High.
"And you say I never take you anywhere nice," Eddie grins.
"I have literally, not once, ever said that."
Eddie laughs and takes your hand.
"Munson?!" a voice shrieks.
"Yeah?" he asks uneasily, turning to see Mrs. O'Donnell.
"What are you doing here?"
You look at each other, and back at her.
"Whatever people usually do at prom, I guess?"
"I'll have no shenanigans from you tonight, Munson."
"Wouldn't dream of it, O'Donnell."
"Don't even think about going near that punch bowl," she warns.
"Why, what's in the punch bowl?" he asks. You try to keep a straight face.
"Just punch, and that's the way it's going to stay. Isn't that right, Mr. Munson?"
"Yes, ma'am," he says innocently.
Mrs. O'Donnell looks you both up and down, sucks her teeth in disapproval, and walks away without another word.
"Like I'd waste good liquor on these ungrateful assholes," he mumbles. "Do have an emergency flask in my pocket, by the way."
"Aww, and I thought you were just happy to see me."
"That's in the other pocket," he winks.
"C'mon," you laugh, pulling him to the other side of the gym. Once you're in a quiet spot, you scan the room for familiar faces. You knew you were pretty much on your own - all of the other Hellfire boys were having a movie marathon and sleepover at Jeff's - but you thought you'd look for potential allies anyway.
"There's Nancy Wheeler," you notice.
"And the Elder Byers," Eddie points out.
"I think we're on our own, babe."
"Just how I like it," he grins.
"You gonna dance with me, or just stand here lookin' pretty all night?" you ask.
Eddie responds by flipping his hair over his shoulder dramatically.
"C'mon," you smile, nodding toward the dance floor. He balks.
"This song sucks."
"Every song's gonna suck," you remind him.
"This one sucks more than average."
"Then how 'bout we visit the snack table and lay a curse on the punch while we wait for something that sucks slightly less?"
"This way, m'lady," he says nerdily, holding out his arm. You roll your eyes and take it anyway, working together to assemble a plate full of cheap snacks and two cups of unspiked punch. You retreat to the bleachers and pick at your bounty.
"So… this is a high school dance," he remarks.
"Yup… imagine, some people's entire high school careers revolve around this thing."
"I'd kinda rather be at home," he confesses.
"In our pajamas," you add.
"Watching shitty movies," he continues.
"Eating shittier pizza."
"Maybe fooling around a little?" He waggles his eyebrows and tilts his head toward the door.
"We went through a lot of trouble to get here, Edward. I went shopping. With my mother. You put on a suit. And a tie. And grew a stress zit."
"Shut up," he grumbles, hand instinctively touching the bump between his eyes. You lean in to kiss his cheek.
"Let's give it an hour. You've gotta dance with me at least once."
"Fine," he pouts. You feed him crackers, and he starts to relax a little.
When the opening chords of "Footloose" blare through the speakers, Eddie cringes. The people on the dance floor go wild.
"C'mon," you order, standing up and reaching for his hand.
"No."
"Yes."
"Absolutely not."
"Eddie Munson, you get your spastic ass on this dance floor with your dumb-ass classmates right now."
He whines, and looks… nervous? You sit back down, face full of concern. He scans the crowd, and you look too. Eyes keep darting to you. Not outright staring. Just keeping an eye on you. Like your whereabouts are a matter of public safety. You've been so focused on Eddie, you haven't bothered to pay attention to everyone else.
"It's just…" he starts, and then stops.
"Eddie?" you ask quietly, turning your head back to him. "This is our prom, too." You slide a little closer to him and hold his hand. "And I'm glad I'm here with you."
Eddie leans his forehead against yours and squeezes your hand.
"You think they're upset that we had the nerve to show up?" you smirk.
"Probably ruined their whole night," he grins. "Dear Diary, the freaks crashed prom."
"And ate all the fucking snacks," you laugh.
A flash makes you both jump.
"Sorry," Jonathan Byers smiles apologetically from behind his camera. "You guys were being cute, and Nancy demanded a photo for the yearbook."
"It's cool, man," Eddie grins. "Can we get a copy of that?"
"Sure," Jonathan nods. "They hired a professional photographer for portraits, by the way. Over in the corner. It's included in the ticket price."
"Cool," Eddie says.
"Anddd Nancy's waving me back," Jonathan groans. "You guys have fun tonight. At least some of the freaks should."
You and Eddie both chuckle as Jonathan goes back to Nancy for his next assignment, hearts in his eyes completely undermining his complaints.
"Well…" Eddie puffs his cheeks and blows out a breath of air. He's experienced all that prom has to offer, and is clearly not impressed.
"One picture, one dance, and we're the fuck outta here," you propose.
"Deal," he agrees.
You walk, hand-in-hand, over to the photographer's corner and get in line behind three other couples. Well, two. Kimmy Little sees you standing in line behind her, and drags her date off in the other direction. You and Eddie share a knowing look, but say nothing.
When the time comes, the photographer instructs you to assume the traditional prom photo position, and you do. You let Eddie hold you around the waist and smile like a total fucking jackass for several seconds while you wait for the flash. You and Eddie stumble away with spotty vision and hands tightly clasped. He's your lifeline, and you're not letting him go.
When your vision returns, you look from the bleachers to the exit. Is it really worth walking all the way back over there to sit and be bored, when you could just leave and have this lame night be over with?
Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" starts playing through the gym's shitty speakers, and you smile. You're a sucker for this one. Eddie looks at you with dread. He knows what's coming.
Silently, you slip backward into the crowd and pull him with you. He doesn't protest this time. He follows, eyes not leaving yours. The crowd must have parted for you. Perhaps there are advantages to loving the resident freak. You stand close and put his hands where they belong, and then yours. You stare into Eddie Munson's eyes and sway slowly to a song he tolerates, only for you.
You're glad you came. You're glad you're with him. You're glad this is the song you got to dance to. You're glad he made you swap your heels for sneakers.
But mostly, you're glad when the song is over, because you come together for a quick kiss and make a mad dash toward the exit.
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"You son of a bitch," Eddie growls, trying to force his suit onto a hanger.
"Leave it, gremlin, I'll do it."
"Thank you," Eddie grins, throwing his suit on the bed and kissing your freshly scrubbed cheek. You'd washed off all your makeup and hair products together, had a little fun in the shower, put on pajamas, and smoked a joint to wind down. You were thrilled to look and feel like yourselves again. "I'm gonna go pop a pizza in the oven. Put something good on, I need to cleanse my poor ears of the top 40 garbage they were subjected to tonight."
"Yes, dear," you deadpan, hanging up your dress as he exits the room.
"Music!" he whines from the hallway.
"FINE!" you yell back. You pop in the first mix tape you find and turn up the volume. You force Eddie's suit on a hanger, put the formal-wear in the hall closet, and join him in the kitchen.
He's sitting on the counter, watching the clock and drinking directly out of a nearly empty two-liter pop bottle.
"You really know how to treat a girl," you smirk.
He burps in response.
You feel like you should roll your eyes or pretend to be annoyed, but you're so in love with this fucker, you find every dumb thing he does to be charming. You lean on the counter next to him, and he hands you the bottle. You take a swig, then pretend it's a microphone.
"I'm here with Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin, who has just been to his first and last school dance! Tell us, Eddie, how was the Hawkins High prom?" you ask, placing the open bottle by his mouth.
"Sucked dick, thanks for asking!"
"It did not suck dick!" you protest, slamming the bottle on the counter with a slosh.
"It sucked some pretty major dick," he argues.
"You got to spend time with the woman you love! In a formal setting! She wore a damn dress for you!"
"I like her better in pajamas."
"Only because I'm not wearing a bra," you scoff.
"Well… I mean, yeah," he says, hopping off the counter and taking your hands in his. "Don't get me wrong, the dress was great. Have deposited the cleavage situation in the spank bank, so thanks for that. But this is just… better. 'Cause this is us."
When you're right, you're right.
The opening chords of Black Sabbath's "Heaven and Hell" play through Eddie's bedroom speakers, and a wave of appreciation for where you are and who you're with washes over you.
"No bowtie-wearing jocks or frilly little bitches staring at us," you smile, sliding your hands to his shoulders and pulling him close.
"No restrictive clothing," he smirks, letting his eyes linger on your chest as he settles his hands on your waist.
"Eyes are up here, Munson," you remind him as you begin to sway subtly.
He looks up and grins. "Those are pretty okay, too, I guess."
You smack him in the chest, and he laughs.. and then his face falls.
"You tricked me," he accuses.
"How did I trick you?"
"This is our second dance!"
"Yes, but its to our music, so it's counteracting the pop-adjacent one at the actual dance."
"Ugh, fine," he pretends to cave with a roll of his eyes.
You keep dancing until the song starts to pick up, and Eddie looks at you with his eyes full of mischief. He starts moving just a little faster from side to side, swaying with the music as it builds. Before you know it, those spastic moves you tried to coax out of him at prom were coming out in his kitchen. You would have been perfectly satisfied to just watch him dance like a dweeb, but he grabs both of your hands and forces you to join him. You do so happily.
You dance, you spin, and you laugh together in the Munson's kitchen to a mixtape of Eddie's own making. It's the most fun you've had in weeks. Why did you spend so long stressing over prom? Prom was nothing. Prom was a bunch of rich kids in tacky, overpriced clothes that you'd be laughing at in twenty years. This is real. This is what you should be living for.
When the song begins to wind down, you and Eddie are nearly out of breath from all the head-banging and jumping around. The slow dancing resumes without complaint.
"I think this is the Heaven part," you observe.
"Huh?"
"Heaven and Hell," you say, looking up into his beautiful red face. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead. His zit has lessened in intensity after a post-shower application of peroxide. His eyes are big and round and curious. This boy is perfect, and he's all yours. "Prom was Hell. Other people are Hell. This, right here? Me and you? This is the Heaven part."
Eddie's eyes crinkle as he smiles. He pulls you in close and crushes you in a hug. You squeeze him back and breathe in the calming, familiar scent of him. You love this boy more than anything.
"I love you," you mumble into his shoulder.
"I love you too," he responds. "Even if you did make me go to prom."
"This was your idea, fool," you laugh, giving him a backwards shove.
"Not how I remember it," he grins. He laces his fingers and holds them under his chin, bats his eyelashes, and continues in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like you: "'Oh Eddie my love, please, won't you take me to prom? It would be the highlight of my life!' Pretty sure you begged. Groveled, even."
"You are insufferable," you laugh, pushing him away from you.
"You're the one who made me go to prom!"
"You know, Munson, according to the pamphlets that everyone's been throwing at me all week, most teenagers have sex on prom night. But I think you're gonna have to get your ass kicked instead. C'mere."
"No!" he yelps, backing into a corner. "Please! I have children!"
"We don't have to share our pizza with them, do we?" you laugh, too lazy to engage in a play-fight with him.
"Pfft. No." He relaxes. "I wouldn't even share with you if I didn't have to."
Your jaw drops.
"I'm kidding!" he insists, coming forward to envelop you in a hug. You go rigid and refuse to hug him back. "I'm kidding. You know I'd save my last Fudge Round for you."
"Oh, really?" you smile, looking up at him.
"Eh… Nutty Buddy, maybe?" He screws up his face in concentration. "Nah. Oatmeal Creme Pie?"
"You are unbelievable," you scoff with a shake of your head.
"You love me anyway."
"Yeah, I guess," you sigh in defeat. "But please don't tell Chief Hopper. It would break his heart."
"Oh my God," Eddie groans, pushing you away and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.
You cackle, and the oven timer dings.
This is definitely Heaven, but you've still gotta give him a little Hell.
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pit-and-the-pen · 18 hours
Text
Your Love is Sunlight- Unrequited Love Pt.3
Whoops. Part 3 to Requited Love but could also be read as a stand-alone (I think I gave enough context to do that). This will be the last linear fic for this little series. But there will be more from this OC.
Let me know if you want to be added to the on-going taglist for this OC
Eris x Day Court! OC (Sunbeam) 
Warnings: Suggestive language, heavy kissing. One singular dialogue line with misogyny. Eating (as always let me know if I'm missing anything)
Also I’m heavily messing around with canon/ lore for mating bonds here. 
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Pt. 2 Alt Ending]
WC: 3.7k
divider by @cafekitsune
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The request came not even a week later. A week that I could not get the red head out of my thoughts. Eris was a perfect gentleman that night, only lightly chucking as he held my hips away from his after our heated kiss.  We danced the rest of the night away until my shoes had worn painful blisters into my heel. And I would do it a million times over if I got to see that look in his eyes
Eris looked at me like he actually saw me. Like a was someone worth looking at. Not a second option. No, he looked at me the way no one ever had before and I was drunk off of it. The fire in his eyes was enough to make me want to sink to my knees right then and there. I had told him that much that night. 
But instead, he went back to his court. The very court whose seal is on the envelope in my hands. The paper so dark red it was almost black. I opened it with shaky hands and scanned over the words, over and over. Written in loopy, beautiful cursive. The note was short and sweet 
Sunbeam, it would be my honor to show you around the Autumn court. You’d be my personal guest. 
I will be waiting for your reply. 
Yours,
Eris 
One little word made my heart skip a beat. YOURS. Something deep in my chest purred at the idea but I brushed it off to the side. Flirting is one thing but the idea of Eris ever truly wanting something like that with me seemed too good to be true. So I wrote back my enthusiastic yes and in a puff of smoke that left the room smelling faintly of cinnamon, the letter was gone. Returned back to the male that had written it. 
I had never been to the Autumn Court before. My eyes tried to adjust to the beautiful reds, greens and yellows in hues I’d never seen outside of paintings. The cool breeze that seemed to whisper in my ear as it brushed past. Everything seemed alive as I heard the scurrying of animals on the leaf covered ground. When the air rose a few degrees, you already knew who was walking up to me. I greeted Eris with a tight hug. He was dressed in a handsome emerald green button down with gray slacks. His hair tied up out of his face unlike the other night at the ball. Those same golden rings littered his fingers. I blushed as I realized my eyes had been raking over him. If he had noticed, he didn’t say anything. Suddenly not knowing what to do with myself, I gave him an overdramatic curtsey raising my voice to stuff almost regal pitch. 
“High Lord.” He quickly recovered from the confusion that washed over him. He smiled, catching on, before he bowed low
“Allow me the honor of showing you around.” He said as he extended an arm to me. His voice dripped with that same faux stuffiness. The two of you looked at each other, holding back laughter. I broke first. My laughter rang through the large forest at my back. His head was thrown back, blinding white teeth flashing. Once we had recovered, he held out his arm again. Voice back to normal. “I would still like to show you around.” I took his arm and the two of us walked around the manor that seemed to rise out of the forest. 
AS he showed me around, he told me of the renovations that had recently taken place, pointed out the things that he still planned to change. The inside was just as breathtaking as the woods around the house. Rich colors and soft, plush fabrics filled the space with an unmistakable warmth. One that Eris had painstakingly tried to create. 
“And this will be your room for your stay. I already had your things brought up and I had Tessa and Clover, two of my mothers maids, pick out some warmer clothes for you.” He gestured to the large armoire in the corner of the room. “If you need anything else please don’t hesitate to tell them or myself.” Thanks rushed out of my mouth as I gaped at the room. 
My  room at the day court had floor to ceiling windows that allowed for sun to streak through at all waking hours, marble and gold littered every surface possible. This room was cozy enough that I instantly felt my eyes get heavy. Dark wood paneling ran across the walls. Heavy curtains over the windows that had been pinned back displayed the colorful trees. And the bed.the bed. It was covered with the softest, plushest blankets I had ever seen. Pillows covered over half the bed and it made me want to do nothing but burrow into them and never leave that bed. My feet drifted on their own accord over to the bed, I reached out a hand and almost sighed at the feeling of the fabric against my fingers. Just as soft as they looked. 
Eris’ content laugh pulled me out of my trance. I turned around to face him, he stood in the doorway still. “I’ll let you get settled. I can show you around more later today before dinner? If you want.” My heart fluttered at the idea, the thought of his court seeing us together. Of course, it was probably just to make sure I didn’t get lost in the maze that was the manor. At least that’s what I told myself, but as he took one more glance at me before he walked out of the room, I wasn't sure how much I believed that. 
Although I had bathed earlier that day, the deep tub in my bathroom all but called my name. I sniffed random bottles of oils and poured in spicy, warm smells. The oils seemed to curl in the air and beckon me to sink deeper into the water. Completely submerging my head until I needed to come up for air. I sat in the bath until my skin started to prune. Groaning, I pulled myself from the soothing water and dried off. Wrapping the towel around myself, I padded over to the closet and ran a hand over all the clothes Eris had given me. The closet was full of jewel tones and deep reds. Floor length dresses that were heavy enough to keep out the nip of the air at night but light enough to walk around in during the day. I picked an emerald long sleeve dress and blushed at the realization that Eris and I would be matching. Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the dress over my shoulder. The front buttoned up all the way to the ground. The waist tucked in slightly flaring out around my hips. It felt amazing against my skin and fit like a glove. 
A knock at the door pulled my eyes from my reflection in the mirror. My hair was still wet from the bath and small waves were starting to form at the ends. Eris opened the door and stilled as he took me in. I felt like I was a thousand feet under his heavy gaze. He looked down at his own shirt for a second before he looked at me again. 
“Autumn court is a good look for you, Sunbeam.” My whole body flushed at the compliment and I hummed in agreement. A small yip from the hallway split my focus. A small furry face pushed through his legs, almost toppling the High Lord. “Azelia” he whistled, the hound stilled for a second before prancing over to me. She sniffed at my skirt before she sat at my feet, giving me her full attention. I reached down to pet her and she rolled over onto her back. I laughed at the twitch in her tail as I ran a hand over her stomach. Eris whistled one more time and she barked back before flipping back over and walked to sit at his feet in a similar manner. I giggled at the exhausted look he shot the dog. She only barked in her own form of laughter. 
Eris and I walked along a river by the house. He helped me pick out the perfect stones for skipping across the water. Coming up behind me to make sure my arm had the perfect flick to make it sail over the surface. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was, even with his help. Something he pointed out with a smirk. I pushed him lightly and he clutched at his chest like I had mortally wounded him. Crouching down onto both knees. I walked closer to him.
“Oh please, Eris ge-” My words were replaced with a yelp as he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me over his shoulder. I could only laugh my head off as I pounded at his back. Demanding he put me down. When he did, I felt the tree against my back. 
“Have I told you how beautiful you sound when you laugh?” I blushed and shook my head. 
“It can’t be that special. No one has ever said that before.” He knew who I was speaking about and he pulled my chin up to look him in the eyes 
“I wish I could offer the usual sentiment of killing the male that ever made you feel this way but that would complicate things as a high lord,” he winked at me. I felt my shoulders loosening at the humor in his voice. “But you say the word and I will.” He picked up a lock of my hair and twirled it around his finger. “You’re radiant and anyone who has ever made you feel otherwise is either blind or dumb or both.”
We had leaned in so close to one another that I could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Someday I hoped he would let me kiss each and every single one of them. My eyes flickered down to his lips and he was smirking as he followed my eye line. 
“Is there something you want, Sunbeam?” The little shit. It’s like my words had evaporated completely. Brain went fuzzy as his smell wrapped around me. I could do nothing but whimper. He made no other remark, only used his hand already in my hair to grip the back of my head. He growled as he smashed his lips to mine. This was nothing like the kiss from the ball. That had been exploratory and warm. This was an all consuming inferno. Burning through every ounce of self doubt I harbored. Scorching through my veins until only Eris was left. His free hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against every delicious inch of him. When I started undoing the buttons of his shirt, he still his lips. His hand went to rest over mine and I reluctantly pulled away from him. I tried not to show the hurt on my face. And he leaned in to whisper in my ear. 
“The first time I'm inside of you will not be outside. Nor when we're rushed. I need time to make you scream my name. For all of Priyanth to hear that you’re mine.” Something more than hunger flashed in his eyes and I felt that look deep in me. 
“Eris.” I gasped out. He brushed a soft hand down the side of my face. 
“You can’t say my name like that sweetheart, not when I have to sit at dinner with the rest of my court in less than an hour.” I blushed at the meaning behind his words and tried, and failed, to not look down to the front of his pants. The evidence behind his words. My tongue ran across my lips at the sight. He groaned and stepped away from me. 
“You are a bad influence. But I meant what I said.” He booped my nose with his pointer finger, “ Now please go get ready for dinner.” His hand lingered on my arm for a fraction longer before he reluctantly let go.
I got dressed in a daze. A wild blush would not leave my cheeks. Everytime I managed to push away my errant thoughts, more would seep back into my mind. 
Before I knew it, I had changed into a new dress and was walking side by side with Eris down to the dining room. A few members of his court were already there, talking amongst themselves. They smiled up at him as we passed. As I sat down next to him they introduced themselves in kind tones. I nodded trying to keep up with their names and faces. More people started to come in and eventually all the places at the table were filled. 
There was no big speech or ceremony to start dinner. Everyone ate at the pace that they wanted to and cups of wine were being poured and shared. 
A deep voice of an older male pulled me from my conversation with the female,Fern I think was her name, next to me. 
“I’m still trying to figure you out.” He stated plainly. 
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you hung around Rhysand and his cronies. Came crawling back to Day where Helion welcomed you with open arms,” I felt the room grow hotter. “So I’m simply wondering how to get you in my bed too.” One second the male had been sitting at the table and before I could even blink, he had been blasted across the room. He sat up, eyes unfocused as he put a hand to his head. All eyes turned from the male now lying on the floor to the High Lord who was picking at non-existent dirt under his nails. 
“You will not speak to any female, especially guests, like that in this court. Ever. Again.” He hardly looked up at male before he evenly said, “You’re dismissed.” Two of the other members of the court scurried to his side and helped heave him to his feet. Quickly getting him out of the room. 
“I’m sorry you all had to see that. There are many things I will tolerate but comments like that are not one of them.” Eris said to those remaining from his court. All of them nodded along, not fear but appreciation in their eyes. I felt my heart soften at his words. Beron would have let a comment like that slide, maybe even agreed with it. It would take a while, old habits run deep but Eris would squash that old cruelty out of the Autumn court piece by piece. The thin line of determination in his face told me that much. He turned his attention to me “Are you all right?” He quietly asked me. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and light conversations filled the silence from moments ago. I nodded. 
“You didn’t have to do that, you know? It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” His mouth set into an unamused look, anger pinching his eyebrows.
“Sunbeam, I will not allow anyone to talk to…” he took a breath, about to say something but seemingly changed his mind. “I would do it again.” I knew he was telling the truth and thanked him for his kind words. 
The next few days passed too quickly. I spent the days in Eris’ presence, him waving me off when I apologized for keeping him from his duties. He assured me that making me feel as welcome as possible was a hundred percent part of his responsibilities. Both as a High Lord and a friend. Friend. I bristled at the word. Only a few more heated moments had passed throughout the days, and nothing like that night before dinner. I was wound tight and from the way his eyes kept flickering to my lips, I knew he was too. Everytime I would go to take things further, he would steal my hands or push away from me entirely. That same excuse said through gritted teeth. I didn't question it. If it happened it happened but being around him so much made it harder and harder to keep my thoughts at bay. 
This was one of those moments. I was supposed to leave the next morning and my hands were currently wrapped in Eris’ hair. My back pressed firmly against the door of his room. He peppered my neck with small bites that had my blood singing for him. I didn’t reach for his shirt this time, despite the need rushing through me. I instead went to the buttons on the front of my dress. Eris all but growled, “Gods you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned into my neck. I used my grip in his hair to pull his face back to mine. 
“Do you want me to?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious. 
“I would want nothing more darling but if you do, you won’t leave my bed in the morning.” He went back to kissing my neck and as he found that sweet spot right below my ear, I let the argument die on my tongue. If this was all I got from him, I would gladly take it. Regardless of how much more I wanted. 
I woke up in the morning with my lips still swollen from the rough kisses the night before. I didn’t need to look at my neck to know the angry red marks that would be faded by the time I left. I sighed at the thought and curled deeper to my blankets. Shutting out the thoughts of leaving and the heaviness that creeped into my bones. 
Eris and I spent the day with his hounds. We walked around the forest, me chasing after them as he hung back, throwing sticks after them. We laughed until our lungs hurt and his pack walked between us with ease, slipping in and out between our legs like they had been doing it all their lives. 
It was finally time for me to leave. Helion was about to come to winnow me back to the Day Court. My bags had already been sent back. And I felt the disappointment on my face as he gave me one short kiss goodbye. As he pulled away from me it felt like the ground was being pulled from under me.
“Eris.” I called to his retreating form. When his eyes met mine it was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. It shouldn’t be possible. I felt tears well up in my eyes. This could not be happening again. I had lost this chance when my bond with Azriel had been severed. Or had I? No one had ever gone as far as I had before. I didn’t just reject the bond. Helion had pulled it from my body, completely erased it for the both of us. Did that mean I got another chance? A small voice in the back of my head remembered those dreaded words. Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. Could this be the cauldron making it right? Looking into those amber eyes, it felt right. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right before in my life. It was never like this with Azriel. He never loved me, was never going to love me. But Eris. Eris, who was always kind to me. Eris, who always greeted me first when he visited my old court during Hlyberns reign. It all made sense now. Everything had played out for this exact moment. I took a sharp inhale as I reached out through the bond, expecting that all too familiar coldness I had been greeted with all those years ago.
 Eris’ eyes snapped to mine as his body jolted. His mouth parted, words seeming to fail him. The other side of the bond was not in fact empty. But full of warmth and love. Love for me. We could do nothing but gape at each other as that thread, as golden as the leaves around us, grew thicker as it stretched between us. 
Tears welled in my eyes at the feeling. So much comfort and love running down the bond it almost pulled me to my knees. We both stumbled forward until our arms were wrapped around each other.
“I was so worried you would never feel it.” Eris spoke into the crown of my head. 
“When…”
“The moment I saw you at the ball. The first time I saw you after you cut your bond with him.” I squeezed him as tight as my arms would allow. “I didn’t know the depth of the magic Helion had used on you, I went to talk to him after to see if it was even possible and reading that book further, we realized it was.” I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The sun reflecting off of them made them honey brown. He smiled at whatever emotion I accidentally sent down the bond. 
“I’m happy it’s you Eris.” He looked shocked. “If I had to go through all of this for it to be you, then it was worth it. Every second of it.” Tears of his own trailed down his face and I placed my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.  “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” His voice reverberated deep in his chest. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But stay here, let me do this the right way. The way you deserved the first time.”  I could do nothing but blush and nod. My throat felt tight at all the feelings, mine and his. A breathtaking smile I had only seen him give me split across his face. My feet suddenly no longer on the ground as he picked me up. My skirt billowed out around me as he swung me lightly around, like he had on the dance floor that night. I squealed in delight and buried my face into his shoulder. Inhaling his deep earth and cinnamon scent and thanked the cauldron that it didn’t always get it right. The first time.
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Copying over the people I tagged in the last one! I promise this is the last one I'll tag yall in unless you ask
@cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch @daycourtofficial @anainkandpaper @leyannrae
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estxkios · 1 day
Note
Hello :3 I luv luv luv all of ur fanfics / headcannons <333
I wanted to ask if you could write a 2005 Bill headcannon where the readers style is cutecore. I haven’t seen anyone do this yet and have been very nervous to ask :0
have a good rest of your day / night you lovely person!!!
OPPOSITES ATTRACT ੈ✩‧₊˚
2005 bill kaulitz x cutecore!reader
summary: the request :3
warnings: just fluff, implied fem reader but i tried to keep it neutral :,)
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the first time he saw you he thought you were the cutest thing ever.
this man did the whole 360 turn to see if his eyes were correct!!:3 (and deep into your relationship honestly he still does this because he thinks ur just adorable !)
the pink skirt you were wearing literally made him go insane he just had to get ur number
i can imagine you giving him the just the cutest dantiest pink bracelet ever, and no matter what hes wearing or what hes doing that day he keeps it on.
like this scary looking man dressed in all black wearing this small little bow bracelet just for u :>
speaking of things like accessories, he randomly takes your jewelry, especially necklaces
one day he took one of your pink chunky necklaces to wear to an event and the other boys were making fun of him
"no way ur really gonna wear that to the event" tom would say
and bil would just confidently reply
"i think it's cute !! plus, it adds to my outfit." :>
needless to say they kept making fun of him, but bill just stood on bussiness.
he would be grabbing the necklace the whole night
just smiling and thinking of you while he touched it
another thing that bill would do is watch you while you did your makeup.
wether it be just some pink eye shadow or a full glitter look he would always be fascinated about how good it always ended up looking !!
so one day he just sat next to you while you were doing your eye shadow and said,
"me next?"
"hm..?" he just sat and looked at you patiently as you processed his request.
"ohhh !" you grabbed your brush and the pallet you were using, "which color do you want?"
he pointed at the light pink, "jus' like you"
you giggled, did he really want pink eyeshadow or was he joking?
he looked at you seriously.
you looked at him with a questioning look as you picked up the brush, rubbing it against the shade he chose.
you lifted his spiky hair out of the way and grabbed his jaw for support,
he stared directly into your eyes as you prepared to start, making you giggle
"close your eyes liebe," you softly said as you started to put the color on his eyes in the normal shape he usually did with his black eyeshadow.
"all done!" you said moments later, putting down the brush.
bill blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes and looking into the mirror.
"cute," you whispered, ruffling his hair.
he didnt say anything immediately after, but he turned to give you fat kiss, and i think that says a lot LMAO
and needless to say, you did his makeup many more times after this :3
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anyways, sorry for how short this is !! i hope i did your request justice because i loved writing it !!
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marvelsmylife · 19 hours
Text
Her innocence is gone
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel takes your virginity.
Warning: don’t read if you’re under the age of 18, smut, Degration, loss of virginity, blowjob
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The day Azriel finally found you was the happiest day of his life. He had waited five hundred years for you and the moment you met, he did not want to leave your side. You were everything he ever wanted in a mate but there was one problem. You have yet to have sex.
He knew sex wasn’t everything, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to have sex at least once to really solidify your union. He was about to ask you if something was wrong with him when you confessed: “I’ve never had sex with anyone before.”
Azriel felt his cock hardening at your confession. You were a virgin. You have yet to be touched by another male. He would be the first and only male you’re going to be with. That part terrified him since you’ve never been with anyone; he had to ensure that your first time was memorable.
After several deep discussions, you and Azriel decided you would have sex for the first time on your one-year anniversary. He wanted it to be special for you and couldn’t think of a better opportunity than on your anniversary.
When that day finally arrived, Azriel planned the entire day, and you enjoyed every minute of it. By the end of the night, Azriel had you pinned on his bed with his hands disappearing under your dress, “Azriel wait.” You removed Azriel’s hand when you felt them slipping into your underwear.
“Is everything alright? Do you want to stop?” Azriel asked, concerned. Part of him was disappointed you stopped him, but he also didn’t want to pressure you into doing something you weren’t comfortable doing yet.
“Gods no,” you sat up and cupped his face, “I just wanted to show off what I’ve been hiding under here.”
Before Azriel had the chance to ask any questions, you got up and started undoing your dress. Azriel felt as if time had stopped when your dress fell and revealed that you were wearing a white lace bra with matching panties. 
You looked so pure and innocent, and Azriel couldn’t wait to taint you, “Cauldron boil me. You look ravishing. Come here, my love,” Azriel beckoned, his cock growing hard at you swaying your hips as you walked towards him.
Azriel’s hands were immediately on your covered breasts and started massaging them. “Happy anniversary, my love,” you whispered as you settled on his lap. Azriel leaned in and kissed one of your breasts while the other one was continuing to be massaged by Azriel’s hand.
You whimpered at Azriel’s action and leaned into his touch. You enjoyed the feeling of his shadows swirling around your body. “They think you are gorgeous as well,” Azriel smirked as his shadows explored your body.
“I think they’re gorgeous,” you breathed out while his shadows started to caress your face.
“Is this ok?” Azriel asked as he reached around and was ready to undo your bra. You eagerly nodded your head and gasped when, in one swift motion, Azriel undid your bra and tossed it to the ground. “They’re fucking perfect,” Azriel groaned before burying his face between your breast and started decorating your breasts with love bites.
You let out a soft whimper at Azriel’s action and started rolling your hips against him, causing him to bite a little too hard and earn a cry from you. “I’m sorry, my love,” Azriel apologized and soon licked the spot where he bit you a little too hard, “Better?”
“Yes,” you replied.
Not wanting to waste any time, Azriel laid you on the bed and started leaving a trail of kisses down your body until he landed on your covered pussy. “I've fantasized about how you taste since the moment we first met,” Azriel moaned before licking your covered core.
“Azriel!” you breathed out at Azriel’s action.
“Say my name like that again. I love it when you say it like that,” Azriel removed your panties and let out a growl as he took in your naked form, “Fucking beautiful, you’re fucking beautiful, my love.”
“Az- oh Azriel !” you shut your eyes when you felt Azriel’s tongue against your clit before disappearing deep inside you.
Azriel smiled as he looked up at you. You were already a whimpering mess, and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet. “Let me know if you need me to stop,” as much as it would pain him, Azriel would stop if what he was doing was too much for you.
To Azriel’s surprise, you began to beg for him to keep going, “Please don’t stop. This feels really good.”
Azriel replaced his tongue with his fingers and skillfully moved them inside you while his mouth was on your clit. With every minute that passed, you became more vocal about the pleasure Azriel was bringing you.
Soon, you felt your orgasm wash over you, “Azriel!” you began grinding yourself against Azriel’s fingers. Azriel continued to move his fingers deep inside you until you physically removed them, “No more. I want to please you now.”
Azriel was about to protest. He wanted to be the one who would be doing all the pleasing, but as soon as he watched the desperation in your eyes, he pulled away and started to get undressed.
A smirk appeared on Azriel's face when he noticed your eyes widened at the size of his cock. “You still have time to back out. I won’t blame you if you did,” Azriel reminded you as he started stoking himself.
“I want to,” you all but shouted and earned a dry laugh from Azriel, “I just don’t know if I’m going to be good at it.”
“Don’t worry, my love,” Azriel held his hand out for you to help you off of his bed, “I will tell you what to do. First, get on your knees for me.”
You felt yourself getting turned on by Azriel’s instructions and did it without a second thought. Your heart started racing, being a few inches away from his erect cock. “Grab it,” Azriel ordered.
Carefully you reached over and took his cock in your hands. Since he was very well endowed, you had to wrap both hands around it and start pumping it. “That’s it. Keep doing that-” Azriel shut his eyes as you began to move your hands, “Once you’re ready, stick the tip in your mouth and- Fuck,” Azriel looked down and noticed you took a third of his cock in your mouth and started sucking on him.
“Fuck, are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Azriel asked, his hands were resting on your head.
All you could do was moan as you tried to take more of him in your mouth, but you felt yourself gagging, “Relax your throat-oh fuck.” Azriel's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and involuntary thrust, causing you to gag.
Azriel was about to pull away to see if you were ok when you held him in place and shook your head no, “Are you sure?” 
“Mhm,” you moaned around him and started bobbing your head faster, finally feeling confident in your actions.
“Good girl. Fuck, I’m almost there,” Azriel fisted your hair tighter as he fucked your throat rougher and got off on the sound of you gagging around his cock.
His shadows, in the meantime, were swirling around your breast and pussy. They wanted to please you just as bad as their master, and they were succeeding. You were wet from both their and Azriel’s actions. “Mmm,” you moaned out when you felt Azriel’s shadows against your clit.
“Come here,” Azriel picked you up and smashed his lips against you. Moaning when he tasted himself, “I love you.”
Azriel moved so that his back was against his headboard and called for you when he was situated. “Go slow so you don’t hurt yourself,” Azriel warned as you made your way over to him, slowly sinking onto his cock.
“Fuck!” you cried out as Azriel’s cock stretched you out. Azriel was tempted to stop you when he noticed the pained expression on your face. Almost as if you could read his mind, you spoke, “No, it’s ok. I’m almost there.”
Knowing there were only a few more inches to go, you decided to sink entirely onto him and let out a cry. “It’s ok. You’re ok. Don’t move until you’re ready.” Azriel tried to calm you down as he wiped away the tears that had cascaded down your cheeks.
You did as you were told and stayed still until the pain subsided. Once you felt comfortable enough, you started to move. While it still hurt a bit, you pushed past it, and soon that pain turned to pleasure.“You’re doing a good job. Gods, you feel so good,” Azriel reassured you while peppering your breasts with kisses.
Just like when you were giving Azriel a blow job, you grew more confident in what you were doing with every minute past. Soon, Azriel had you gripping the headboard as he thrusts into you relentlessly from behind.
“Look at you. My once innocent mate has turned into a filthy whore,” Azriel bit your shoulder blade as he reached around and started squeezing your breast.
All you could do was cry out of pleasure, enjoying all of the derogatory names Azriel was calling you. You knew he didn’t mean them, but for some reason, you felt confident being called a whore or a slut. “Harder, please fuck me harder,” you begged Azriel.
“You’re my dirty little whore,” Azriel repeated, “Mine and no one else’s.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at Azriel’s words, “Only yours. I’m your dirty little whore.”
Needing to see your face again, Azriel pulled out and rolled you over before placing your legs over his shoulder and thrusting back inside. 
“I love you,” Azriel chanted as he watched your facial expression, enjoying the fact that he was the one bringing you so much pleasure. “Touch my wings,” Azriel requested and caused you to look at him in shock.
You knew how protective Illyrians were about their wing, so you asked, “Are you sure?”
After letting out a muffled yes, you reached over and grazed over the sensitive part of his wings. “Oh gods, FUCK,” Azriel found himself cumming inside you and caused you to orgasm as well.
Heavy breathing filled the room as Azriel continued to move inside you until his cock finally softened. “That was amazing.” You had a smile plastered on your face, but that quickly turned into a frown when Azriel pulled out and collapsed beside you, “Why did you pull out? I loved having you inside me.”
“I’m sorry, my love,” Azriel moved you so you were lying on top of him and buried his cock back inside you, “Better?”
“Much better,” you smiled down at him, “I love you, Azriel.”
“I love you too, my love,” Azriel replied while running his fingers up and down your spine, “Happy anniversary.”
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littleavengerfics · 22 hours
Note
How about WandaNat x little reader. Reader goes to the dentist and is told that sucking her thumb/her paci has ruined her teeth, so now needs braces / surgery. Next time R drops she has a massive temper tantrum when she can't self sooth. Desperate to sleep before a mission Wanda creates a paci using her magic
Soother (Wanda Nat x little reader)
(sorry this took a while, life got crazy, hopefully you like this, if you don't let me know if you want something changing and I can do that for you)
It was a day all three of you were dreading, the dentist appointment. The caregivers knew it was gonna be a hard day for you all as you hated going to the dentist. "baby, come on get dressed we have to go in an hour." You groaned pulling yourself out of bed, "I don't wanna go." You huffed giving her a pout. "I know, you've been trying to get out of it all week, but it's not happening." Natasha smirked, picking out your clothes, she loved doing it everyday, even if you weren't little. "Nat. I brush my teeth twice a day and floss, there is nothing wrong with my teeth so I don't need a dentist."
"Y/N you're not going to get out of it, if you stop whining and behave at the appointment ill buy you a treat after we are done and you can watch two movies before bed tonight." You couldn't help but smile at her proposal as you knew it was only gonna come up today." fine I'll behave but just know I'm not happy about it."
"I can live with that for an hour. It's either a slightly grumpy you or an angry wanda and right now ill take the first." As she spoke she heard wanda yelling that they were going to be late. As much as you hated going to these appointments wanda hated running late for them even more and with you and natasha it was like that most of the time. Though thanks to their driving you still always arrived early, much to your dismay.
***
"baby don't worry, I'm sure everything is going to be fine." wanda reassured, squeezing your hand. You weren't so sure. When the doctor came in your heart started racing, holding Wanda's hand was helping but not enough. You needed something else and before you knew it your hand made it's way up to your mouth. The doctor chuckled a bit which made you frown. "there's our problem." both wanda and Nat looked at you and it was only then you realised there was a whole other conversation going on between the three of them you didn't understand. You still didn't pay any attention until natasha pulled your thumb out of your mouth.
"Really? It caused all that damage?" natasha said in a worried tone, the look on her face made you want to cry. If Nat was upset clearly something was wrong.
"It's not the end of the world, we can give them some invisible braces to fix the issue. The thumb sucking, however, does need to stop." It was a sentence that made you completely freeze. You didn't like that doctor anymore, at first she seemed nice but now you weren't so sure. By the look on your caregivers face you could tell that was going to be a rule and you weren't happy about it.
"That's going to be tough. They never stop." I barely listen as he starts giving them suggestions of how to deal with my bad habit. "there are some alternatives, there is chew safe jewelry and even adult pacifiers that can help with thumb sucking and other habits. If you use them responsibly and stop when there is pain or discomfort it won't cause as much change."
"I will look into those, thank you." Wanda smiled, hoping this would be a solution to their problems. After they left the dentist y/n dropped again after getting all of their work and it soon became a constant battle to keep y/ns thumb out of their mouth. Each time they were stopped they seemed to get more and more upset, by the night Wanda and natasha were mentally exhausted from the tantrums, it got even worse when natasha got a phone call. "babe, we have to leave for a mission tomorrow. We leave early in the morning."
"There goes our plan to just let them cry it out till they fall asleep while we wait for the delivery, Im already slow in the morning, I need to sleep tonight." Natasha nodded, she of all people knew about Wandas hatred of the morning, she knew it would be a rough day if they didn't get to sleep soon. "can't you use your magic to make them sleep."
"No, I promised myself I would never use my powers on them like that." the two were interrupted by y/n dumping all their toys on the floor and crying. Wandas mind was quickly changed, but she decided to try a less forceful approach first, she conjured a pacifier similar to the one she had seen on the Internet.
She couldn't believe it when y/n took to it, their wails turned into light sniffles within a few minutes and they stopped acting out. Wanda picked them up, "there see, everything's okay. You're okay, you like the paci?" y/n nodded settling against Wanda who put them to bed, "goodnight baby sleep tight." Natasha and Wanda breathed a sigh of relief as the little went to sleep peacefully, Wanda cleaned up the mess with her magic and the two turned themselves in for the night as well.
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lunaroserites · 2 days
Text
Does Heaven Even Know You’re Missing
Paring: Established Bucky X Fem!Reader (Sugar)
Summery: Just a snippet Sugar and Bucky. Steve is alive. Part of the Sugar AU. Inspired by a song of the same name by Nickelback
Warnings: Nightmares, comfort, fluff, no use of Y/N, Not beta'd all mistakes are my own
Word Count: ~1005
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3
Read Too Sweet here
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Whimpering, you heard whimpering as you stirred awake which caused you to jolt upright and look around. Looking at your phone after you snatched it from the bedside table it read 4:03am. You felt him thrashing a little next to you and the whimpering got louder. Quickly you turned and leaned over him, he was squirming, there was a very evident sheen of sweat over his entire body. 
He had been working on staying in bed for the whole night, it was proving to be a difficult task these last couple weeks. A difficult mission seemed to have rocked him in some way he refused to discuss with you. He didn’t want to scare you, but he was scaring you more by hiding it. He was a stubborn man, proud and terrified you would look at him differently if you knew everything going on in his tangled web of a mind. 
He had told you once that the first time he stayed in bed all night was the first time you stayed over, he didn’t start in bed and end up on the floor in the living room like always. You brought peace to his soul, calmed his racing thoughts and soothed his worries. With you in his arms, he felt safe. 
You quickly pulled the blanket down and off him so he wouldn’t feel confined, you touched the lamp stand, casting a dim amber light over you two. His eyelids were fluttering as his eyes moved frantically under them. You touched his cheek softly and stroked it gently. 
The first time he had a nightmare in bed with you, was scary. You had to call Steve to help. Now you have a routine, you didn’t leave. His grip on your waist wouldn’t allow you to anyway. 
“Bucky,” you cooed softly, “Bucky,” you stroked his cheek gently again and you felt his grip tighten momentarily on your waist. His fingers flexed and gripped the soft fabric of your night dress. He moved and turned over you, tucking his face into your neck and inhaling deeply. 
One, two, three, four, five deep breaths later he collapsed on top of you. His weight was comforting and his intangible murmurs as he came too were almost relaxing. You gently stroked his hair and rubbed his shoulder. 
“Just say you’ll stay and never go,” he mumbled into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck. “Never leave me here alone,” your heart broke at the desperation in his hoarse voice. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured softly into his ear as you kissed his temple. “I’m here forever,” you hugged him tightly. He whimpered into your neck and shifted so you were tucked safely next to his large body, cradled into his chest. 
“The day I finally felt alive,” he said, his voice trembling as he gripped your mid section tightly, holding you tightly to his chest. “Was the day you fell into my life,” he whispered into your hair, his hot breath fanning over your scalp. 
“Bucky,” you said softly. “I love you.” 
“I love you too,” he snuggled closer. 
Sleep didn’t come easy again, every twitch of him against you made you wake up. Every deep breath made your breath hitch. You were afraid he was slipping again, back into his mind. You feared he was caging himself into his mind, screaming for help he wouldn’t dare ask for. 
You felt hot tears well up in your eyes and your breath stuttered out as you tried to calm yourself. He was the one who was having nightmares, he was the one scared and here you were crying because of how it made you feel. You felt selfish. You cared so deeply about him, you fought so hard to make him realize you were there, forever. You weren’t going anywhere. 
“Sugar,” his voice was coarse and thick with sleep. “Honey,” he cupped your tear streaked cheek and turned your face toward him adjusting so he was propped up on his arm. He peered down at you, his eyes swimming with so many emotions you couldn’t place just one. “What’s the matter?” He asked softly. 
You brought your hand up and stroked his stubble covered cheek and let the tears come freely. “I’m worried about you,” you whimpered out. You hated how emotional you were, you were so quick to cry when emotions got high. 
“Ssssh,” he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead. “I’m fine sweetheart, it was just a nightmare.” You took a few deep breaths and tried to compose yourself. 
“It’s more than just a nightmare,” your voice was small, fragile. “You’re slipping again,” you didn’t want to sound like you were accusing him of anything. Something in his eyes broke, you were prepared for him to do what he would usually do, put a wall up and ignore it until it exploded out of the seams. His shuddering breath caught you off guard. 
“I am. I’m sorry I tried to hide it,” he said softly, he was half lying on top of you, his big hands holding your head and stroking your face, his hot breath fanned over your face as he stared into your eyes. “I’m afraid you’ll leave. If you knew about the things I’ve had to do. The things I’ve done.” You went to speak, he shushed you again. “Not before. Now. The things I do on missions. I’m not sure I’m a soul you can save my sweet angel.” 
“Bucky,” you placed your hand over his and slipped your fingers between his. “I’m not leaving. I promised you.” 
“Heaven is going to come for you one day. When they realize you’re missing,” he murmured and rubbed his nose against yours. 
“I traded an eternity to come and hide away with you,” you whispered back, relaxing under his weight as he settled. 
“I’m never gonna give you back,” his voice was soft, and he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips.  You were his sugar, his sweet angel, his everything. 
Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list ❤️
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tallymonster · 3 days
Text
Memories of Us
Chapter 18 : Remember Me
AO3 || Master list
A/N: so this is my longest chapter...it's around 6.7k words lol and there's a lot of lore drops going on soooo yeah enjoy lol.
Thanks to @cheesy-cryptid for their blessing on each chapter. Your support means the world to me.
Super special thanks as always to @micropoe10 because this girl has literally been here from day 1 supporting, uplifting, pushing, and helping me with this story. She even wrote the last few bits to save me from myself and I can never thank her enough. Love you so so much Rue.
Tags: @justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel @hereliesblackdragon @misscrissfemmefatale
Astarion had begun to realize how much he enjoyed Octavia’s company. She was the eternal sunshine behind the clouds and each bit of affection from her broke them apart and allowed the light to come through.
The thought of someone caring about him was a lost concept, that someone could see something inside him other than what he saw himself.
Octavia was utterly infatuated with Astarion, she wondered if there was more to this routine the two of them found themselves in. The feeling of their bond becoming stronger, drop by drop of her delicious blood.
She was desperate to unearth more of his secrets, all while still hiding her own. Octavia was blinded by her own hypocrisy, the irony of her wanting to dig into his past while denying her own started to eat away at her. As she stared at herself in the mirror by the front door, she felt something tugging at her to be truthful with him.
There was a knock on the door, she took a deep breath as she finished fixing her hair.
You need to be honest with him. He was with you. It's the least you can do.
Astarion waited outside Octavia’s house, she had suggested going to a night market in Rivington she heard of. A friend of hers apparently told her it was a great place to go on a date.
He was somewhat nervous to be out in the open so publicly with someone. It had been so long since he let himself do it, not feeling the same as when he and Tav would walk hand in hand on the same streets.
Astarion leans on the rails of her front steps, he stares up into the starry sky. The stars sparkled as if they were there just for them. He smiles to himself, hearing the door open.
“Hello beautiful. I was afraid you were leaving me to go to the market all by mys-” He turns and the words are taken out of his mind as he takes in Octavia’s appearance.
She was in a mid-thigh length mustard colored pinafore dress, with a black short sleeved shirt, and some black tights with black leather ankle boots. A woven bag hung from her shoulder. This was one of the few times that Octavia could swear he was rendered speechless.
Octavia giggles and gives Astarion a kiss on the cheek, “Oh come on, you've seen me naked, I’m not dressed that seductively right now.” she walks past him and turns to wait for him at the end of her steps. “Ready to go?”
He nods with a grin and follows behind. As he steps down to the sidewalk, he holds his hand out, testing how she will react to his small gesture.
Octavia blushes, her heart fluttering slightly. She swings her shoulders back and forth, in a giddy wiggle. She smiles, biting her lip and takes his hand in hers. It felt cold, but so safe. She felt his fingers slip between hers in a comfortable lattice.
They walk through the street, silent at first. After they cross the road, Astarion wraps his arm around her waist and speaks. “You look wonderful by the way. I know you said you didn't look enticing, but I beg to differ. I think you look absolutely appetizing.” He squeezes her hip, Octavia’s cheeks are flushed a light reddish tone.
Astarion pulls Octavia close, hugging her in a playful embrace. She laughs as he bends down to kiss her. “You're being awfully affectionate. Are you feeling okay?” Octavia asks Astarion.
He lovingly cups her chin with his hand and pulls her in for another kiss. “I’ve just been really happy these last few weeks. I just figured that since we are on a date, I would act like it.” Astarion shrugs, giving Octavia another kiss before releasing her from his arms.
Octavia leads Astarion down the road to where the market was being held and becoming more populated. It had been so long since Astarion came to the street markets. He hated the crowds, the noise, all the different smells of foods he can't enjoy, but with her by his side it's all just background noise.
Astarion looks down at Octavia, a smile creeps into his face as he watches her eyes light up with excitement. Perhaps he could suffer for a bit longer, she did seem pretty eager to go out like this. Who would he be to deny her such simple pleasures?
Octavia can't decide where to go first. To her left was a stall with handmade leather bound books, to the right some flower stands, and not to mention all the food! She took Astarion’s hand and began to walk towards the flower stand. He smirks letting her lead him to wherever she wants.
“I love flowers. My mom and I had a garden at my childhood home where we grew so many. I tried maintaining it after she died, but it was just so hard to keep it up by myself. My dad was never one for being outside in the dirt even though he grew up near the Druid Grove.”
Octavia confesses with a laugh, she turns to Astarion and her smile drops a bit.
“I'm actually going to visit him soon. He's moving back to the Grove and he asked me to come help him empty out the house…feels weird to go back to basically throw away all the memories we made there.”
Astarion notices the change in her smile, the drop of her shoulders, and the way her hands come together. Her fingers twiddled at the variety of flowers carefully laid out with a far off stare. He takes one of her hands and holds it gently.
Octavia turns to him with faint tears on the corner of her eyes. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “It's been a long time coming. My mom's been gone about 16 years at this point, so why do I feel so sad?”
Astarion’s grip tightens on her hand. He knows this feeling too well. The feeling of moving on and allowing the grief to come and go as it pleases. Astarion takes in their surroundings. The last time he allowed himself to be in this type of market was the last time he saw Tav.
“You feel sad because you miss her, love. I've been there myself. In this very market no less.” Astarion finishes his sentence with a soft breath.
Octavia looks at him, recognizing the same sadness behind his eyes. The grief of losing someone you love. She remembers one of the things that makes her feel better is to talk about her mom, so maybe he can tell her about his loved one? “What were they like? The person you lost?”
Astarion glances back at Octavia, he hadn't thought about telling Octavia about Tav just yet, or at all. He pays for a bouquet of wildflowers that Octavia’s eyes locked onto. They turn and begin to walk away from the stall.
He hesitates before giving her a sad smile. “I’m not sure if this is the right time for that, I mean, I'd rather focus on you tonight, if you don't mind.” They sit on a bench near the edge of the market. Astarion looks down at the bouquet, taking a small pink rose and placing it in Octavia’s hair.
His hand lingers on her cheek, he leans down and kisses the corner of her eye. As he pulls away, he catches the smile that forms from her lips. He hands her the bouquet, as she leans on his shoulder, perfectly distracted away from her questions.
“No matter how long it is. Know that you will always carry a piece of her with you. As long as you remember her and the love you had, you'll never be without her.” Astarion comforts Octavia as they hold hands.
Astarion's good at the little words that everyone likes. The pleasant platitudes to soothe a broken heart. Meanwhile, he continues to push his own feelings of grief deeper down.
He could still see Tav standing at the opposite side of the market, the bag she carried full of contents hung from her shoulder. He stood about 8 stalls away from her. Her sweet scent hit his nostrils as he traded meat for bottles of blood.
Astarion had turned his head towards the scent, nearly dropping the glass bottle in his hand. He couldn't believe she was still in Baldur’s Gate after 30 years. He didn't know how long he was staring, until the merchant cleared their throat.
Astarion thanks them and turns back towards Tav. She's staring into a mirror that sat on top of the stall. She seems as if she's looking for something inside of it, a dreamy far off look behind her eyes. He hesitates wondering if she would be happy to see in or if she’d punch him. He’s frantically running scenarios in his head when he notices her head lift up.
Astarion shields his face with his cowl, only his bright red eyes shining through. He slings his bag over his shoulder and hesitates to walk closer to her. Tav fully turns to face him, her face the same kind loving light he saw in his trances. She smiles, beaming towards him, a look of recognition and love.
He swallows, the world seems to be closing in.
Instantly, though, that same world comes crashing down when he hears a small voice calling out. “Mama!! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” A little girl runs past him, straight into Tav’s arms. Soon after a man comes up to them both and wraps an arm around Tav's waist.
He watches as the man kisses Tav and leads her away.
The rest of that day the way she looked past him burned in his mind. Could she have already forgotten about him? How long did it take for her to move on?
There's no point in dwelling on it now, he's got a lot of other things to worry about of course.
“Astarion? Are you okay? I didn't mean to pry again, I’m sorry.” Astarion is broken away from his thoughts by Octavia’s soft apology, her hand resting in his. He looks down at their hands intertwined. The flowers sit on the bench between them.
“The last time I saw her, she was standing at a stall like the one we were just at. I'm pretty sure she forgot who I was…or she had this look on her face like she did. I’ll never forget the way she looked into that mirror…This glossed over sort of blank empty look to her eyes. It was so strange, like she didn't remember where she was for a second.
Besides, she had a child and a husband? Partner? I don't know. I didn't hang around too long to ask, and I didn't want to cause any issues so I just stayed out of it.” Astarion confides, his voice mournful and far away.
Octavia feels the grip holding her hand tighten a bit, perhaps she's edging too close to his boundaries again? She rubs her hand on the top of Astarion’s arm. The motion soothes him and replaces the icy shards of sadness that pricked behind his eyes.
Somehow though, as he looks into her dazzling green eyes, he feels that lovely warmth in his chest. That feeling of comfort he’s longed for over a century.
They lock into each other, taking in their collective grief. Their sadness was the thing bringing them closer together. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about her.” Astarion confesses, “It's the first time that I've felt comfortable to feel this grief with someone who can relate. Thank you for giving me that opportunity to share a little with you.” He leans down and kisses her sweetly.
Octavia smiles reluctantly, a small shy blush grows on her cheeks. She must have something on her mind. “Is everything alright, my dear? You seem lost in thought.” Astarion asks.
She nods slowly, turning to look out to the market. “I was hoping that I wouldn't bring up anything sad, but I guess I couldn't make it through one date without ruining the moment.” Octavia huffs in a soft awkward laugh. “Gods, for once I wish I could stop being so melancholic and just enjoy the good things my life has given me lately. Like you.”
Astarion sits up a bit, he could feel a slight warmth at the tip of his ears, was he blushing? He clears his throat and asks, “Really? What about me?”
She smiles and plays with his fingers in her hand. “Where to start? You're kind, well…to me,” a soft giggle follows “you're smart, incredibly handsome. I feel pretty fortunate to have someone like you on my side, you understand me. Whoever let you go is foolish to have done so, but they opened up that path to you for me. So maybe they weren't so foolish after all.” Octavia lifts her hand, kissing the top of his hand.
“She didn't leave me. I left her. I left because I was scared. Scared that I couldn't take care of her how she wanted. Scared that she would figure that out on her own. That she would wake up one day and realize that I ruined her life. So I ran. I didn't even say goodbye. I just picked up my bag and left in the middle of the night. Like a coward.” Astarion spits out, the shame and regret dripping from his lips. His lips purse as he bites the inside of them.
Octavia frowns, she takes the flowers and places them on her lap. She plucks one out and begins to softly spin the flower, opening the petals. “You're not a coward.” She brings the flower up to his ear, tucking it behind.
“I don't think you're a coward for trying to keep someone you loved safe.” Her hand lingers on his cheek, caressing his face. “‘The things we do for love’, as my mom used to say.”
Astarion melts into the warmth of her hand. His heart felt the grief it was used to, but with her here it didn't seem so devastating. To allow himself to be vulnerable with someone felt strange, as most things involving Octavia do.
They sit in silence for a few seconds, before Octavia speaks “Not to change the subject or anything because I feel awkward,” she laughs a bit, “but I've noticed that you haven't been wearing your glasses lately? Did something change?”
Astarion bristles a bit, having to think on his feet. He was a bit hesitant to admit that he was not feeling the need to keep hiding behind the magical lenses any longer. In reality, he began to feel more comfortable to be himself around her.
But instead of giving her that openness, he lies again. “Oh, I…felt like I'd be calling more attention to myself if I were to have them on right now. Besides, wasn't it you that asked me why I wore them indoors right as Gale introduced you to me? I feel like this is the opposite of that.” Astarion ends with a soft tilted giggle.
“Imagine if someone stopped us to ask why I'm wearing sunglasses in the evening? As you so tactfully had that first night? That would have definitely ruined the date. Either way, you didn't do anything wrong. You’re perfect.” Astarion pulls Octavia close, releasing his hand on hers, and drapes his arm on her shoulder.
Octavia melts into his embrace, a bittersweet feeling hung over them. She brings her hand up to her shoulder and interlocks her fingers into his again. Astarion felt her relax a bit.
“How long will you be away?” “Do you want to come with me?” They speak at the same time, interrupting each other. Astarion clears his throat and Octavia laughs quietly. She turns her head to ask again, “Do you want to come with me to Wyvern Hills? I'll be gone for around six days?”
Astarion thinks it over, the idea of meeting her father was intimidating, even more so because he would probably have to explain his particular affliction. “I don't think so, darling. You deserve a break, and I don't think Gale can handle everything by himself again. I had him do that once and he nearly quit. It's too much for one person to handle. It would be unfair to him.”
Octavia feels Astarion’s other hand start to run up and down her arm. It's as if he was soothing her, or himself, maybe both? He was beginning to recognize the same comfort of sitting in silence with a loved one. The reminiscences of a quiet evening under the stars.
The sounds of nature envelop them, an intimate orchestra for two lost souls floating in an everlasting ocean of grief. In the vast darkness, they find the light and come together.
Octavia had lost herself to these feelings like so many times before. Astarion was born in it, used to the push and pull of it. Having lost the will to swim against it and let the waves crash over him, caught in its current thrashed around, but this was different.
To Astarion, Octavia feels like the safety net pulling him from the depths. The warmth of her affections was melting away his fears. His heart wanted to tell her how he felt. To confirm that after all these years, he finally felt the warmth of loving someone again.
“I lo-” Astarion almost confesses when he catches himself and continues, "I'll miss you. A lot. I just realized that we haven't been apart since we met. It'll be strange not having you around.” He leans down and kisses her cheek. “Come back to me, okay?”
Octavia felt her cheeks flush and her heart flutter.
Was he..? No…I’m probably just projecting.
Octavia couldn't deny her feelings for Astarion. The little flashes of lightning whenever he held her, made her laugh, or kissed her were exhilarating.
She couldn't deny that she loved him.
Octavia was terrified to tell him so after hearing him talk about his lost love. Who would she be if she heard all his pain and immediately said “Well, guess what? I love you!”? Her face felt hot, how long had they been sitting here?
She turns to Astarion and kisses him, she lets her feelings pour into their kiss. Octavia could feel tears gathering behind her eyes, “I’ll miss you too.” She smiles and kisses him again, feeling him lean into her, his arms wrapping around her.
Octavia pulls away a bit, “I should go home now, I told my dad I would try to be there as early as I could.” Astarion responds with a whine, Octavia giggles as he plants small kisses all over her cheeks, nose and lips.
“Don't miss me too much, Star.”
“Is that a challenge, darling?”
They laugh as Astarion unwraps himself from her, he stands and holds his hand out. Octavia takes it and they walk off into the night.
They leave the flowers on the bench.
--------------------------
Octavia walks up to the cobblestone cottage she grew up in. The patch of wildflowers she used to run in have turned into a full meadow, their blooms alert and open as if welcoming her back.
She walks up the gravel path to the doorway, noticing a small hummingbird on the hibiscus bush her mom lovingly tended. She smiles watching it flit away. Her trip would be over soon. A ping of sadness runs through her, saying goodbye to the place is going to be hard.
Suddenly the door swings open. Her father, Ralomaer, stands at the doorway with a giant grin on his face. He has a red flannel shirt on with some white powder on the bottom and some dark pants.“Hey kid! Have a nice walk? Are ya hungry? Got some breakfast made up for you!”
“Did you make waffles by any chance?” Octavia asks, with a laugh. Her dad tilts his head, his brows furrowed and he shakes his head, “Yeah, how’d you know??” Octavia laughs harder and points at his shirt. “You're covered in powdered sugar, Dad.”
Ralomaer laughs and waves his hand over the fabric, cleaning it up. Octavia walks up to him and remarks, “That must come in handy, you always used to hate doing laundry.”
Her dad laughs, “Well when you live alone, it's kind of pointless to wash one thing at a time. This is faster and better for the environment. Anyway, go eat. I'll meet you upstairs when you're done, it's attic day!” He waves his hands in a flourish, as Octavia walks past him and into the kitchen. Her dad climbs up the stairs.
Later that morning, Octavia sits cross-legged on the floor of the attic. Her father sits across from her on an old wooden chair. Between them sat an open wooden crate full of letters, drawings, photos, and many memories from her childhood.
“Okay, now I understand why you wanted me to come by and have this visit with you so urgently. This is really nice to go through with you, Dad.” Octavia chirps excitedly.
“Well don't thank me, thank your Auntie Taeladra! She insisted I clean the attic since she bought the house from me. Kept telling me something about ‘Preserving family history’ and ‘can you tell Octavia to come instead, isn't this pretty much her job.’” Ralomear holds up his hands, making finger quotes.
“Gods, she sounds like my coworker, Gale.” Octavia and her father laugh, as she rifles through the crate. Finding medals, trophies, countless books, letters, and pictures.
“You know, I think you’d like Gale. He's pretty funny. He's smart, witty, and so quick! He's been a great mentor, and an amazing friend. I'm really lucky to have him.” Octavia smiles warmly as she keeps rifling through the crate.
Her father stares at her, a puzzled look on his face. “What? What's that look for??” Octavia asks playfully.
“Are you dating this Gale? That was a lot of complimentary language for someone who is just a friend, my darling.” Ralomear gently teased.
“Dad! No! He's not my type! Besides, I'm way too busy with all the research and work and just…everything.” Octavia laughs, hiding her face behind her hair. She quickly looks away, hoping that her answer would squash this conversation.
“Oh my little bookworm! Don't keep your head in the books too long, you'll miss out on writing your own story.” Ralomear pinches Octavia’s cheek adoringly.
She smiles at her father, a little embarrassed laugh leaves her lips. A feeling of dread grows, she knows that her visit might end with her having to possibly define whatever she's got going on with Astarion. A small seed of insecurity plants itself in her stomach. How could she ever find a way to ease her father’s worries when it came to her love life?
“I’m gonna see what else is back there.” Octavia gets up and starts looking through the rest of the crates that occupied the attic. They were all stacked neatly in the corner of the little room. She walks up to the circular window next to the stack and opens the thin curtain.
Small dust spores kick up as she swings the window open, allowing the fresh air and sunlight to flood in. When she turns she notices a dusty tarp in the darkened corner of the attic. Some canvas frames sat on top of the tarp, it was staged as if it was trying to conceal something.
Octavia comes up to the items, carefully moving them aside. What she finds is an old wooden crate. “What the..?” She runs her hand on the edge of it, easily sliding it open. “Woah…hey Dad? I found something?”
Ralomaer looks up quizzically and wanders over. He stands with a hand on his hip, the other scratches at his beard. “Well would you look at that! Didn't even know that old crate was in here! No wonder your auntie wanted you to come through here, you and your museum skills are great for finding old junk!” he laughs.
Octavia began digging through the crate. Inside were old spell scrolls, tomes, stacks of handwritten letters from her great grandmother, the other adventures she traveled with, even highly detailed hand drawn maps!
Octavia could not believe the amazing treasure trove she had just unearthed in her own home. How long has this been here waiting for her to find it?
She finds a book full of sketches of various plants, animals, and locations all over Faerun. Octavia fixates on a fully illustrated image of the inside of what looks like an Illithid colony! She continues to flip through it, mesmerized by the way everything is drawn.
Octavia turns the page and is struck with drawings of eyes that look relatively close to Astarion’s own. She feels a strange sort of recognition from looking at the drawings.
The blood colored irises that were lovingly depicted in charcoal and ink, have a haunting familiarity to them. She knows Astarion is old, but she never asked exactly how old…
Her father pulls her out of her suspicions, “Lookie here, Tavvy! I found a rather interesting letter!” Ralomear recalls as he unfolds the antique parchment, handing it to Octavia. She reads the letter, her mind a little frazzled by yet another strange coincidence.
Darling Tav,
Laurent tells me you've been having nightmares again. It's been about 20 years since everything happened, are you still being plagued by the memories of it all, or just one particular, specific person? I still have some of my contacts from the House of Grief from my days as a Sharran. If you're serious about taking the risk, I could put you in contact with them. Let me know when you two get settled into your cottage. Lae and I can be over as soon as a tenday.
You're always in my thoughts, my dear friend.
Love always,
Shadowheart
“House of Grief? That sounds ominous.” Octavia remarks, remembering the extreme rituals Sharrans would take in order to release painful memories. Octavia could hardly imagine the suffering of those who felt it necessary to forget something, to now know that her own grandmother endured that shakes Octavia to her core.
“Sharrans eh? Good thing you did that whole exhibit on them! Maybe your friend Gale can help you out with this stuff?” Ralomear remarks.
“Yeah…maybe… Do you think Grammy had some PTSD from the whole Netherbrain thing?” Octavia asks quietly, the seriousness weighing heavy on her heart.
“I’m not sure, baby. Your mom always avoided the subject with me. Something about not wanting to dwell on the past and enjoying the time you had in the now. It was the one thing I never understood about your mom. How I wish you could ask her now.” Ralomear solemnly muses. He looks at Octavia, smiling mournfully.
They stay in the silence for a moment, before Octavia breaks. “I miss her. I could really use her brain right now.” She runs her finger along the outside of the crate.
“I miss her too. You definitely took after her, your brilliance is obviously her doing, my heart.” Ralomear takes Octavia’s hand in hers, squeezing it lovingly.
“I am so proud of you, I know your mom would be too. Now, let's keep digging through her stuff!” Ralomear smiles warmly and releases her hand.
Octavia shuffles through a stack of books, most of them run of the mill books, nothing too noteworthy. Until she notices a blue-gray fabric bound book. In silver letters across the front it read ‘Warming the Melancholy Heart’. She cards through it, until a small hand written letter falls out.
Octavia opens it, scanning the page. She gasos and begins to read the letter to her father.
Laurent,
The Unburdening your wife chose to follow through with should have fully set in by now. I have sent you some recommended reading should you have any questions about the procedure. Your wife has all my gratitude for all she did for me and the others. To give her this blessed relief in this trying time is the least I could do.
As per her concern, she may have some fleeting memories, but those should fade in time. Should she have any aftereffects or complications, do not hesitate to contact me again.
Shar’s blessings be upon you,
Nocturne
“Unburden? What does that mean?” Ralomear asks Octavia, handing her the letter.
Octavia reads through the thin book, the words describing the taking of memories sound as if they're trying to lessen the serious action being taken.
The remedy may seem non-existent, but it is not so. No heart that beats is a stranger to that which gives it joy - you must seek it out however you can.
Octavia flips through the book, most of it is filled with testimonials from people who went through the process. Lines of affirmation for what has been done to forget. Her eyes linger on one of the pages describing the aftereffects, symptoms ticked in red ink, tally marks keeping track of each in black.
✓ Forgetfulness ///
✓ Melancholy ////
✓ Face blindness //
✓ Staring at nothing //
✓ Nightmares of past memories /////////
These shall subside as time passes, you will need to guide your loved one through the process moving past their burdens. Should they seem different, another session may be required.
You may notice your loved one have an empty, far off look to their eyes, that will lift as their healing progresses. If you find they are forgetting more than intended, return to the House of Grief.
Be aware of them looking into mirrors for a long period of time.
"Mirror??? What?” Octavia gasps, covering her mouth quickly after. “Tavvy? Everything alright? Your face looks really sweaty all of a sudden…” Her dad reaches out and places the back of his hand on her forehead. “Oh yeah, you're feeling a little warm, why don't you go lie down? We're almost done for today, so I can finish up and bring some tea to your room?” he gives her a soft pat on the shoulder.
Octavia nods, “Sure, thanks Dad.” she can't wrap her mind around everything she just read and saw. She grabs the sketchbook and the book on Unburdening and walks out of the room. She descends the thin ladder leading up to the attic, then walks into her room, closing the door.
Octavia presses her back against the door, sliding down until she's sitting on the floor. The sketchbook closely held to her chest.
She opens the book back up to the images of the eyes. There's no doubt in her mind that she's looking into the same eyes that she had back on the bench outside the market.
Suddenly, Octavia remembers that she had the enchanted journal at the bottom of her bag. She crawls over to her bag at the foot of the bed, and flips furiously through it.
One entry immediately catches her attention.
Gods, it's been incredibly hard trying to keep these entries as neutral as I can. There's no telling what else could come for A. About two tenday ago, we went through that freaky meadow, A and I ran into a Gur hunter named Gandrel. Said he was looking for a vampire spawn, I noticed A’s whole attitude immediately change. His face looked as if he had been slapped. Those eyes that keep staring at me, turned so fox-like and angular. As soon as we heard A’s name come from the hunter’s lips, it was over. I have never seen him move like that. He swears it’s Cazador, but what would Cazador need him for?
Octavia presses her knees up to her chest. She closes her eyes and tries to push the notion of this being Astarion whom her ancestor is referring to out of her mind. It can't be him, could it?
She reaches over to the foot of her bed and rips through her bag, shaking out its contents, until finding a black velvet bag. She slips the ribbon off, taking out the red leather bound book that Astarion had given her.
She flips through, reading the first few lines. It speaks of people who had been captured, the various ways in which they were beaten, tortured, abused, and finally, bled try and turned.
Each one had an entire 20 page section dedicated to their specific treatment. Near the bottom of one page, she notices a name.
According to Aurelia, the Gur sent someone to find him. I sent Dalarya and Petras to stalk the Gur encampment in Rivington. They are to kill whoever does not give up information.
The boy will be found, I need him to ascend. The Ritual of Profane Ascension will be completed.
I WILL BECOME THE VAMPIRE ASCENDANT.
Ritual of Profane Ascension…where had she seen that phrase before? Octavia goes back to Tav’s journal, flipping through until she sees those words again.
Today, I got a better look at his back.
He's got a circular scar with Infernal written all around. When I saw it the morning after the party with the tieflings, he said it was poetry, but he didn't know that I know Infernal. I was hesitant to tell him what it really was, but something told me to keep being honest.
When I asked him where he got it, he told me it was a gift from his old master, Cazador. I explained to him that I believed it was a binding glyph, Cazador was planning something and whatever it is, it seems he needs the missing piece that I have in my party.
My suspicions were proven correct when we met up with the devil after finishing the Gauntlet of Shar and killing the Orthon.
He told us about this Rite of Profane Ascension. How Cazador needs 7 of his spawn to sacrifice along with many others to make himself into some kind of super vampire that can walk in the sun, go into homes without being invited, all those things that go along with being a vampire….
I'm not so sure about it though. Raphael explained that the soul of the Ascendant would be lost, and he would be a shell of his former self.
I don't know if I could go through with it. Killing all those people? It seems like such a big decision to make, so permanent and serious. We had a group meeting after everyone cleaned up and had dinner. Karlach and Wyll were adamantly against it. They can't justify all that loss for one person to benefit.
Gale and Shadow had more rational arguments, they both had ambitions to be greater than they were through their own rites. A seemed to listen to Shadow over Gale, but ultimately it was Lae’zel that convinced him otherwise.
She told him how all she wanted was to serve her Queen, but after seeing everything we have, she realized that she can't keep chasing the shadow of a lie. Sometimes, we have things we want, and we find that to achieve them, we would lose all of ourselves. If that was the case, what was he chasing after? If he wanted freedom, he's already free.
I think that was what finally opened Star’s eyes.
Star??
“Fuck me.” Octavia can feel the color drain out of her face. She looks around the floor at all the books that were surrounding her. She picks up the sketchbook and keeps looking through.
She noticed that every so often, there are pages ripped out. As if someone tore them up in a fit of rage. When she reaches the page with the eyes, she sees a little doodle of a star beside each one.
Octavia can't help the trembling in her hands, there's been this creeping suspicion inside her for a few weeks now.
The enchantment Gale broke, the log book Astarion gave her, the way he described his lost love seeming like they had been Unburdened and now all this? The clues are becoming glaringly obvious to her, but, it can't be….can it?
Her heart is thundering inside her chest as she keeps going through the pages of the sketchbook, more torn pages, drawings of flowers, and finally near the end of the book, two full pages of the binding glyph that Tav had described.
Three circles, almost like a bullseye, surrounded by Infernal symbols. The scarring looked deep and painful. Octavia’s mind races remembering how Astarion winced and seemed to not want her to touch him there.
Octavia’s eyes survey the page and her breath is ripped out from her lungs when she sees a profile drawing of Astarion looking her right back in the face. She can feel the tears well up behind her eyes, her entire life she had been told about this grand adventure, this amazing thing that her great grandmother had done for the city she loved.
There's almost double the amount of writings speaking all about a seventh spawn. It used a code for their abuses and names but I was one set of entries that surpassed all others in her eyes.
Octavia swallows, she grabs the red leather book one more time, she opens the book towards the end, as soon as she sees his name, it all comes crashing down on her.
I have dispatched the brood. They will find him and bring him home. And when they do, I will make him scream for this.
Their tale was fanciful, but they believe it to be true. Astarion, standing in the sun’s light? Willing and able to disobey me? Inconceivable.
My spawns fail me. Astarion eludes me. I WILL HAVE MY DUE.
Octavia’s blood runs cold.
There it was, hidden in plain sight this whole time. Astarion is everything that she has been searching for. He's the one who was there, the one who was in the paintings, the one who Tav forgot. All the evidence was clear, and now seeing his name in this journal that she barely bothered to look at back home…
Home.
Oh gods, how was she going to be able to look Astarion in the face now?
The only thing that made her doubt all of this was his back. She hadn’t seen it yet. She dreaded having to ask to see it, what would she say? How would he react? She presses her head up against the footboard of her bed, closing her eyes tightly.
Octavia's heart shattered as she sat clutching her knees tightly to her chest. The room grew smaller and the air around her was stifling and thick. Between the sobs, she tried to catch her breath, trying to stop the room from spinning, holding on to her legs, anything to ground her.
But what was left to stand on? Everything she knew up to this moment had been a giant mystery until now, shrouded in a decades-long secret. Locked away behind paintings and books, the things that once gave her comfort, that now sat scattered about her felt tainted.
She shoved them away, call it anger, frustration, fear, it all blurred together now. The floor felt like shifting sand, like it would give way at any moment sucking her down. Hiding her, like the other 7000, like his siblings like him...HIM.
Did he know? Did he know about her relationship to Tav? She had so many questions now and everything felt more and more uncertain. He loved Tav, and she had loved him that was for certain. Was he still in mourning, did he regret leaving Tav? Was she Tav's replacement?
Oh gods the room was spinning as Octavia lay down on the floor curled in on herself. She couldn't think that way, but she couldn't help it anymore. She no longer was thinking with a clear and rational head, instead, she let her emotions control her.
Binding her to the belief that Astarion once upon a time loved a woman so intimately, that she would never be able to fill that void. As sleep took her the last thought that plagued the visions within her mind was one that had read in the journal, something that Tav had penned so long ago.
Would Astarion ever leave Octavia like he had left her? And if he didn't would she ever be good enough for him to convince him to stay?
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veebarnes13 · 3 days
Text
"I love you more"
Context: Bucky and you got married two years ago, but it didn't stop him from starting "I love you more" contests.
TW: none
Era: TFATWS
(English isn't my native language, feel free to correct me!)
Enjoy! :)
☆☆★☆☆
The alarm went off violently that morning. Bucky groaned and rolled to his side, almost crushing you under his weight. He slammed his fist on the alarm clock, careful not to break it though. He let himself fall on his back, his flesh arm circling your waist from behind. He buried his face in your hair and took in your scent, a smile tickling his mouth.
"Morning." he mumbled.
"Morning, handsome." you replied in a sleepy whisper.
He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, his hand roaming up and down your belly.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, worried you would be sore after he made love to you last night.
"Couldn't have slept better." you answered.
He cuddled you against his chest for five more minutes, not wanting to get up just yet. He had a meeting later with Sam and Sharon, to which he wasn't looking forward. They always got Carter and him arguing, Sam trying to soothe them and ending up arguing as well, and made him upset for the whole day.
He finally got up and forced you to do the same, holding you by the waist. You both took a morning shower to start what he had called "the waking up process of lady Barnes". He teased you with how different he was from you on this point. Where he could get ready for a meeting or mission in twenty minutes, it took you an hour and a half just to get up, shower, get dressed and eat.
While you were picking your clothes for the day, he prepared breakfast. You hugged him around the waist and kissed his bare back.
"It's dangerous to cook shirtless. You could burn yourself." you rebuke him with a gentle slap on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about the cook, kiss him instead." he replied.
It was the sentence he used each time you complained on his methods. You rolled your eyes, but kissed him anyway.
"I don't want you to hurt yourself, dummy, because I love you." you said, a finger on his chest.
"I love you more, doll." he retorts.
You snort, your version of a sarcastic laugh.
"Don't start this war. I love you more." you counter.
"Nonsense. I love you more." he added.
"Impossible, because I love you more." you shook your head.
"Shut up, I love you more." he replied.
"Make me." you chuckled.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking, and towered over you. He leaned forward, but instead of kissing you like you expected, he put a piece of the bacon he's cooking in your mouth.
"Tell me how it is." he laughs.
You elbowed him. He shifted away, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
After breakfast, he had to leave for the meeting. You kissed him goodbye, and as he was closing the door, you yelled "I love you more!". He opened the door and said "No, I love you more." then slammed it, preventing you from replying.
You smiled, knowing he thought he won, but he didn't.
At lunch, when he opened his meal, he laughed to himself, making Sam jump. On his sandwich was a piece of paper with the words "I love you more" scribbled in your handwriting.
"Really?" he texted you.
"Can't argue with facts." you texted back.
He smiled and shook his head.
As soon as he got back home, he took advantage of the fact that you weren't back yet.
Your keys jingled and he was standing before the door, a wide smile on his face. You frowned, suspecting something, and put your coat down on the couch. He hugged you tight and kissed you, welcoming you back home, telling you how much he loved you. You said you loved him more, but he didn't argue; he simply smiled.
Weird.
You cooked dinner since he made breakfast. When the plates were on the table, he poured you a glass of water. You noticed a black stain on it and tried to wipe it off with your thumb, but it didn't go away. You licked your finger and tried again, without any success.
"Gross." sneered Bucky.
"Shut up." you laughed back.
You inspected the glass and realized the stain formed an "I". Knowing what was coming next, you took the water jug and looked at the side that was towards Bucky. He had written on it "love you more."
You glanced at him. He giggled between two bites.
To get revenge, you positionned your food to spell "I LOVE U" along with a little addition sign, and he shook his head.
"It doesn't work, you didn't spell it right." he said.
If your eyes were guns, he would've been cribbled with bullets in a heartbeat. He laughed and gently kicked your knee underneath the table. You kicked him back and he snorted.
You both spent the evening without another "fight", but you knew he was planning something. So were you.
You brushed your teeth, got undressed and disappeared under the covers. Bucky joined you ten minutes later. You quietly insisted to be the big spoon and he didn't argue, for once; he loved to be the little spoon.
After a few minutes, you drew "I LOVE YOU MORE" on his back with your index. You heard him chuckle, a deep warm laugh that vibrated through his chest. You pressed yourself against his back and rested your face in the crook of his shoulder.
"I won't let you win this forever, you know." he whispered.
"You will." you murmured.
You cuddled him to sleep, his scent surrounding you. The next morning, you had a day off, so he let you sleep when the alarm rang.
You opened your eyes at 8:30, and the first thing you saw were the rose petals scattered on the floor. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, only to find out James had spelt "I love you more".
You smiled, your heart squeezing happily beneath Bucky's shirt you were wearing.
☆☆★☆☆
Thank you so much for reading this! I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed it.
If you like my writing, you can take a look at my Wattpad account, "WinterBarnes13", but my works on there are mostly in French. I wrote only one Fanfic in English, it's short and was written two years ago.
Lots of love!
- Vee
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shoshiwrites · 20 hours
Note
Hi! I’m the anon that requested the handholding prompt, and I just wanted to say thank you. It was everything I could have hoped for and more!! It made me smile!!
If you are still taking requests, I would request Jo/Egan with the prompt touching foreheads or bandaging/stitching an injury. As you can see, I couldn’t decide between one prompt, once again. I look forward to whatever you write and of course, never feel pressured to write anything. I hope you are doing well 🫶🏼
Hello anon! Thank you so much for your lovely message. I'm so glad you liked that prompt, and I appreciate your understanding very much. I've kept "bandaging/stitching an injury" on my list, and filled this one for "touching foreheads." This is my first try at Bucky POV, and we kind of ended up on the depression-nap side of things (see my terrible header below). Thank you to @mercurygray for helping me work the end. Bucky Egan x War correspondent OC.
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Six months. 
And he’s felt every minute of every one, or at least it seems that way on days like this. Gray as all hell, like a storm gathering over the lake. Every minute if you didn’t count the gaps, the headaches, the days he sleeps away, the things he couldn’t remember those first few weeks. His jaw still wakes him in the night, dull if he’s lucky, a screaming pain if he’s not. He can never forget the things he’d actually want to forget, can he? Now that would be too easy.
Never coughed up an explanation for Buck either, even when Buck looked at him sideways about something or the other. Even if he wanted to, his throat goes dry at the thought, like the dust and dirt along the floorboards.
Holding onto it gives him something to hold onto, at least. The anger. 
Six months of this damn nightmare, the bloodshot bone-chilled day and night. Different nightmare than the sky. He has those too. This is the kind of dream where you’re stuck in it, you can’t move, there’s footsteps outside the door. He’d had those as a kid. Terrified him. 
It’s sure not the the kind they nail up pictures for, paper edges catching on the unfinished timber, hoping to summon some kind of vision. He’s so tired he’s practically drooling into the pillow, letting his eyes wander far enough along the wall that it hurts, over Rita and Ginger and Ava’s shining faces. 
There are pictures kept in books too, pouches and the occasional wallet, those all but sewn into jacket pockets. Girls back home.
Not even a letter. Not one goddamn letter, he thinks, the sigh of it harder than seems fair to his mother or his sisters, trying to get around the mail delays and sending cards for every holiday they could think of. What the hell even was Arbor Day, anyway?
(“Trees,” Brady had said, not looking up from the keys of his saxophone.
“...right.”)
He thinks about Texas, and Florida, and Idaho, and Nebraska. Girls and dresses and perfume, manicured hands, no dirt around them. Marge’s friend, he can’t remember her name, pretty, dark hair, disinterested in a kiss but amenable to dancing. They’d all wanted to forget, right? Not when you’re flying out the next day. 
He thinks of Lil, the cupid’s bow of her lip and the goosebumps under her sweater. She’d wanted to forget too. A brother somewhere in…he can’t remember now. Burma? Her grandfather hadn’t had too many nice words for him, John. Not that he could blame the man.
He thinks of Jo. Crouched over that little green typewriter the way Brady fiddles with his sax, the sound of the bell, the sound of the keys. Like Buck over the radio. The way she looked up at him, like she’d just realized something important. The way she smelled when she let him get close enough, like flowers after a spring rain. 
The air’s sour in here, and cold. Showering helps, besides freezing your damn balls off. 
He lets himself think it, about his head in her lap in the grass, or on a sofa, or anywhere, really, where she’s leaning down and she’s touching him, the little calluses on her hands, and her forehead close to his.
It hurts too much, and maybe he can admit it, here in this damn coffin of a bunk, mattress about as comfortable as one, that maybe she’d wanted to forget too.
You don’t kiss like that, he thinks, with acid in his throat, when you care what comes next.
She writes like she cares, though. She writes like she believes in all of them, like it’s real and not just what her paper wants or somebody wants to hear. 
Maybe he can admit that now, if he doesn’t think about the note she’d left.
He’d rather think about anything else, hell, he’d rather walk outside with no shoes on, listen to the Yankees lose by a single run.
He’d rather wish this damn pillow was a different kind, her thigh or her body or her forehead, even, pressed against his. Not that he’d admit it out loud. 
And her mouth right there, he thinks, like he can just make that half-second trip to kiss her, and kiss her again.
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“But now…”
Lockwood is so vulnerable in this moment.
He’s responding directly to what she said just before she stormed away from him and into their house:
“What does it even matter if we end up stabbed, or dead at the bottom of the Thames with nobody left to care?!
This doesn’t feel like winning.”
He stood there stunned, watching her go.
Hours before, he had stood in the same spot near a different taxi, watching her stride towards him in the same blue dress with the wind in her hair. She was a vision. He smiled despite himself.
“So it’s just us”
“Is that alright?” He had asked, as she held his gaze, her smile warming him thoroughly in the chill air, his heart pounding as he held the cab door for her.
There was no smile for him now.
And it was all his fault.
After showering off the river and putting on a fresh set of clothes, he’s had a quiet moment to think about what she said in anger… and how right she was to say it. She has the truth of the matter- he put them in terrible danger and they only barely survived the night. He was so reckless and careless and utterly foolish. The self loathing voice in his head threatens to take over as the weight of it settles on his mind. She’d be right to leave him, to hate him and never forgive him, he thinks, and the thought almost breaks his heart. Self loathing collides with a sense of desperation— she can’t leave me …I need her… I’ve fallen completely and desperately in love with Lucy …and I can’t—I mustn’t— screw this up, …if I haven’t already. He takes a slow breath and gathers himself, mentally rehearsing his apology before finding her in the kitchen.
He struggles through the apology… it’s not enough. The words feel like they’re falling flat and sound hollow in his ears. He moves closer, unsure if that will help but compelled to be close, drawn to her as always.
“I just wanted to say, don’t give up on us— please”
She drops the butter knife and it clangs to the plate.
He knows he’s got it wrong- he’s barely half way to the truth. He moves closer, compelled to see her and desperate to look into her eyes. He turns his body to her, she hesitates, still and waiting.
“Or, what I really should say is… don’t give up on me.”
Now she turns to him, and he’s grateful for it. Though her expression is unreadable, she gives him strength to show her his darkness. It’s her strength now that compels him:
“To be honest the bottom of the Thames used to be a far more appealing place to be.
And really no one would have cared.
But now…”
Is almost a question he poses, it’s so tentative.
There’s so much unsaid after those two words, and he has to believe it’s enough and she already knows the rest:
But now… Now I want to live. Because of you, Lucy. You came along and gave me something to live for.
But now, maybe someone would care if I ended up at the bottom of the Thames. I didn’t dare to think you cared about me, Lucy… but then you went and told me so. It was just before we went into Winkman’s auction earlier that night.
I was frustrated and rash and I said “when my time comes I don’t plan on leaving anyone behind who’s going to stare at that door every night, wishing I would just walk through it one more time”
And then you stopped me in my tracks:
“Well you should have never let me in, or George, because now it’s far too late.”
And that left me speechless.
So yes, I can say something as profound and crazy as “but now…” because I dare to believe you, Lucy. I have to try to believe you, to believe that I matter to someone. To two people even, my best friends that I love dearly and one that I love so deeply that it terrifies me.
“But now…”.
Silence. I have no more words. And I hope it’s enough.
I can only stare into her eyes, totally at her mercy, waiting for whatever she might say next …fully knowing it can break me. But what else can I do. I’m wrecked for her. And I’m a complete idiot and we both know it and she’d be right to reject my apology, to reject me. I stand with bated breath, looking into her beautiful eyes not daring to hope for forgiveness.
“Grenadier guard or policeman”
I exhale.
A wave of relief floods through my chest as the tension I didn’t know I held is released. I struggle to stand composed, this close to her while I’m taken by a flood of gratefulness and love for this fierce and brilliant girl who has —and forever will have— my heart.
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asarajaa · 1 day
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OKAY. MEETING BACHIRAS MOM FOR THE FIRST TIME. 🤭🤭🤭
(no pressure if you don’t want to do it ofc bbg<3 )
Ofc bb but have patience, I’m a little bit down cause I didn’t like at all my last post so yk 😭✋🏽
Omg I’m so dumb, I answered it without the fic made HAHAJJAJAJA, when I got it I’ll put it here and I’ll tell ya, k love? Have some paciencia 😽💗
Update: k so I already did it so here you go my love, hope you like it <3!
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Warnings: fem!reader Words: 656 Disclaimer: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings! Taglist: @merlucide
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Meeting Bachiras mom for the first time
₊˚ෆ To help me with this, I will pretend it is the second part of the Bachira falling in love hcs.
₊˚ෆ Indeed, his mom liked you.
₊˚ෆ First of all, when Bachira got home and told her mom about you, she was super enthusiastic to meet you!
₊˚ෆ After Bachira made a move and you guys become boyfriend and girlfriend, the next step was meeting each others parents, being Bachira the first.
₊˚ෆ When the time came, you were extremely nervous, Bachira tried everything to make you feel less nervous but obviously it didn't work.
₊˚ෆ You wanted to everything go great. Your friends always says that is like having a second family and that creating a bond with his mom is important bc she's gonna be like a second mom to you.
₊˚ෆ You made yourself a list of 5 rules to follow when you meet his mom (which made Bachira laugh at you because- babe, my mom is super chill you don't need to do those things.)
₊˚ෆ Rule number 1: Do not show empty handed. It doesn't matter if you give her flowers, some dessert or a gift, Bachiras mom will appreciate it and think that you're a very nice and sweet girl. She's the type of person who appreciates the small things so giving smth to her will be perfect.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 2: Dress modestly. Look, Bachiras mom wouldn't care if you go with some jeans and a cute top, in fact, she would compliment you. But if you go dressed like if you're going to some club she would not think bad of you but neither she'll think good of you. I believe that as an artist she's very into the fashion world and if you're meeting her with a cute outfit she'll like you.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 3: Don't try to be somebody that you're not. She want to meet the person her son fall in love with, no one else. She'll like you just the way that you are! As an artist, Bachiras mom know about being judge so don't worry about those things.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 4: Always offer to clean up. Of course, she wouldn't let you, but it would be nice seeing the effort of your actions that his son never stops talking about.
₊˚ෆ Rule number 5: Try having a one on one time with her. Women to women bounds are super special so you have to use the opportunity to grow a very strong relationships. Honestly, she always wanted a daughter so just talked with her about girl things and it would be awesome!
You and Bachiras mom were left alone, she told Bachira to go to the store to buy some dessert (you bought flowers) so now you girls were alone.
"So, how did you knew you wanted to be an artist Mrs.Bachira?" you asked her enthusiastic, the dinner went awesome and you guys were having a great time.
Bachiras mom loved your question, nobody usually ask her about her profession and you were actually interested.
As the night went by, you girls ended up having a girl talk about the latest in fashion, the new tea about celebrities, skincare and make-up.
When Bachira came with the dessert, he was confused. He left you guys silent and when he come back you were sitting next to each other talking passionately about some new viral linase mask that gives a botox effect. Although he wasn't complaining either.
"Word of mouth is that the mask also works to give definition on the curly haired girls." you said showing her the video of a girl trying it.
"Really?" she said leaning to you "Bachiras cousin has curly hair, i'll show it to her."
₊˚ෆ She loved you, like she would call you some days to exchange tips and your calls last hours.
₊˚ෆ Bachira was more than happy when he find out, It seemed perfect to him that the two women in his life got along so well.
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nksdhfsbfv idk what I did.
I feel like It was too short, great rules tho
28/04/24
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© asarajaa — Please, do not copy, translate or reuse my work without my permission.
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foxes-that-run · 2 days
Text
But Daddy I Love Him
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Daddy I love him is an Ariel quote, when Ariel gives up her voice for love. Taylor has given up love for her voice (career), but also not spoken up for what she wants most. But Daddy I Love Him is a continuation of a theme of how fame and fandoms have affected Taylor's personal life. What I love about this song is it sounds like an older Taylor Swift song, she embraces a country sound and speaks her mind.
While the parallels to the reaction to a relationship in May 2023 can be seen, this overlooks much of her experience with this behaviour. I don't mean to say it is not an element, but it is far from a complete story to say it is about ending a 3 week relationship with someone about whom she also said "And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive" on the same record.
In her NYU Graduation address in May 2022 Taylor had part of the concept in this already swirling in her mind, a full year before she dated Matty Healy:
Having journalists write in-depth, oftentimes critical, pieces about who they perceive me to be made me feel like I was living in some weird simulation, but it also made me look inward to learn about who I actually am. Having the world treat my love life like a spectator sport in which I lose every single game was not a great way to date in my teens and twenties, but it taught me to protect my private life fiercely. Being publicly humiliated over and over again at a young age was excruciatingly painful but it forced me to devalue the ridiculous notion of minute by minute, ever fluctuating social relevance and likability. 
What Taylor is referring to is the treatment by the media and fandoms throughout her career, but this was never more of an issue than 2012-2014. Nothing is a terrifying as a teenager on fledgeling social media. This TikTok creator describes it perfectly:
From tabloids, twitter, tumblr, even people who looked like Taylor were abused.
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So yes, Harry has had and worn t-Shirt with the song title for years, and yes they have both dressed up as Ariel. But that is not all that makes this song about Taylor loosing her love over fan behaviour... it's because she did. She lost the love she wrote 1989 including "This love left a permanent mark / This love is glowing in the dark"  about. And it continues today, there are a lot of people who still call Harry's partners vile names and think it is OK to treat others poorly because they suggest he could care for someone. I think anyone who's read this far knows exactly what I mean, probably first hand.
This affected Taylor the point the Clean Speeches on the 1989 Tour were on this topic, every night she talked about bullying, self worth and holding onto love.
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The 'Daddy' is not just the fans and media, but probably her team also. I think the varied shapes in the CDs are to show this comes in many forms and roles, not just one experience. As Taylor said to Rolling Stone in 2014 before 1989 was released:
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Lyrics
[Verse 1] I forget how the West was won I forget if this was ever fun I just learned these people only raise you To cage you Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best Clutching their pearls, sighing, “What a mess” I just learned these people try and save you ‘Cause they hate you
For the international fans like myself 'How the West was Won' is a 1960's film about American colonisation. I think the opening 2 lines do 2 things, place us in a country setting and also tell us Taylor cares more about speaking her mind than what may be higher bigger goals.
The second half of this verse goes on to set out that it is fans who are approaching her love lost as trauma porn, and I am here for it.
I also note the cage reference, Taylor (and Harry) have a long theme of being caged or trapped by fame, she has a literal cage in her Nashville apartment, he has a cage tattoo and they have used cage, glass boxes, fishbowls, snowglobe imagery. Here she points out the fans are not really there for her, they are seeking to control her.
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[Pre-Chorus 1] Too high a horse for a simple girl To rise above it They slammed the door on my whole world The one thing I wanted
The pre-chorus furthers that the final straw has been broken, she's been cornered by fans to give up something she cares for.
Vigante Shit "Ladies always rise above / Ladies know what people want / Someone sweet and kind and fun /The lady simply had enough"
Is It Over Now? "I was hoping you’d be there and say the one thing I’ve been wanting, but no"
That is the only time Taylor has sung about ‘wanting one thing' before. This also reminds me of the Delicate Behind the Scenes, where she said she got a note from a lover and wants to be with him but realises 'it can never be him'
[Chorus] Now I’m running with my dress unbuttoned Scrеaming, “But, Daddy, I love him I’m having his baby” No, I’m not, but you should see your faces I’m telling him to floor it through thе fences No, I’m not coming to my senses I know he’s crazy, but he’s the one I want
In the chorus Taylor acts out a churlish child yelling at a father. The 'daddy' is many roles, her actual parents, fans, media and probably record company and PR people who told her she could be with the one she loved, throughout her life. She says the matching line to Harry's Kiwi, which has the same meaning.
Taylor 'floors it through the fences, fed up and unwilling to listen. This is great imagery, to break through fences, and also as metaphorical fences that have been placed around what considered acceptable for her. Cars are also a Haylor theme, including Run below and often used as a metaphor for their love escaping as it is here. (All I know is that you drove us off the road / Let’s get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds)
Is It Over Now?: Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?
Run: And my so-called friends, they don’t know I’d drive away before I let you go
In Kiwi Harry yells a tabloid line followed with it's none of your business. In his Harry's House ONO complete with pointing at the camera and crowd. Taylor also referenced these same tabloids headlines in the Reputation magazine.
Kiwi "I'm having your baby / It's none of your business"
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[Verse 2] Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid Tendrils tucked into a woven braid Growing up precocious sometimes means Not growing up at all He was chaos, he was revelry Bedroom eyes like a remedy Soon enough, the elders had convened Down at the city hall
In the second verse Taylor establishes that she has gone everything asked of her:
Style - "I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt"
Style - "So it goes, he can’t keep his wild eyes on the road"
Yet is denied freedom and the elders decree the match is unsuitable. I think the elders are her team. She describes the muse as chaos and revelry. This is very reminiscent of the I Knew You Were Trouble introduction poem, but while in 2012 Taylor was contrite and said it was too much she now revels in the revelry:
"And the crazy thing is I don't know if I'm ever gonna feel that way again, but I don't know if I should. I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright, but I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you? Maybe he knew that when he saw me. I guess I just lost my balance. I think that the worst part of it all wasn't losing him it was losing me"
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[Pre-Chorus 2] “Stay away from her” The saboteurs protested too much Lord knows the words we never heard Just screeching tires and true love
The 'daddy' has now forbidden the love, this is reminiscent of Love Story: "And my daddy said, “Stay away from Juliet”
[Chorus] And I’m running with my dress unbuttoned Screaming, “But, Daddy, I love him I’m having his baby” No, I’m not, but you should see your faces I’m telling him to floor it through the fences No, I’m not coming to my senses I know he’s crazy, but he’s the one I want
'Crazy' and Madness are a Haylor theme, particularly in the Blank Space music video, and these lyrics
Wonderland "And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad"
Kiwi "She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it (Oh) and "It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it"
But many more songs:
[Post-Chorus 1] I’ll tell you something right now I’d rather burn my whole life down Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning I’ll tell you something ’bout my good name It’s mine alone to disgrace I don’t cater to all these vipers dressed in empath’s clothing
I love the last line, vipers dressed in empaths clothing, that is exactly what they are.
[Bridge] God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what’s best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see Thinking it can change the beat Of my heart when he touches me And counteract the chemistry And undo the destiny You ain’t gotta pray for me Me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy If all you want is gray for me Then it’s just white noise, and it’s just my choice
The only time Taylor has described someone as wild in lyrics is in Style "So it goes, he can’t keep his wild eyes on the road"
Afterglow "Chemistry until it blows up"
I love the end of the bridge, elsewhere on the record Taylor describes her long term relationship as grey, staid and boring. For many years some fans have shoehorned this person into lyrics because they want to see themselves in her, as they settle down they want her too. From my point of view some rather loud warning signs in songs were overlooked, or seen as 'she's remembering the past/when they first got together' to avoid accepting she was unhappy and wanted out.
Out of the Woods "The rest of the world was black and white But we were in screaming color"
[Verse 3] There’s a lot of people in town that I Bestow upon my fakest smiles Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer We came back when the heat died down Went to my parents and they came around All the wine moms are still holding out But fuck ’em, it’s over
This verse is where I think it becomes clear than the 2023 lens is at best reminding Taylor of a past love, because that relationship never came back. Matty has said they never dated in 2014, there was no controversy around her attending concerts then. They dated for a few weeks then stopped talking, and of story.
However Harry and Taylor did sing about a hidden relationship for years. In fact Taylor wasn't connected to anyone else in a serious way for three years. In particular
Wildest Dreams: I said, “No one has to know what we do”
This Love "This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh"
I know places : "Somethin' happens when everybody finds out / See the vultures circling, dark clouds" and "we're bulletproof I know places (Hide) and you know for me, it's always you"
…Ready For It?: "Island breeze and lights down low, no one has to know"
I Know Places TV's lyric video for got a very TTPD themed look.
[Final Chorus] Now I’m dancing in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I’m his lady And, oh, my God, you should see your faces Time, doesn’t it give some perspective? And, no, you can’t come to the wedding I know it’s crazy, but he’s the one I want
Taylor is asking her fans, parents, media if they have grown up, from when they were teenagers playing with her real life, do they have perspective and willing to accept that she loves someone of her choosing?
And no, they can't come to the wedding, but I bet they have Eras Tour tickets....
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the-clari-net · 7 months
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I went to a wedding today
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inkskinned · 9 months
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no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
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