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thebestofoneshots · 2 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

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Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7 K Warnings: None Prompt: It'd just one more day before it's full moon again, you must make sure you've got the smell of the pack... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 38: Let the Good Times Roll

Wednesday, December 22nd. 2:15 AM

When the party was over, you went up to your room alongside Lily to change. She wasn’t talking to you yet. You tried to give her some space, but you didn’t like not being able to talk to her. You weren’t even sure if you should apologise to her, and if you did, For what? For saying nasty things to Severus? You certainly weren’t sorry about that. Maybe for implying her in? That had been unnecessary, even if you knew it would spite him.

You sighed as you walked in, Marlene and Mary were fast asleep, and you cast a quick silencing spell over their bed so neither you nor Lily would wake them up. You looked at the redhead as you raised your wand and she walked towards the bathroom to change, avoiding your gaze altogether.

Your gaze fixated on the closed door, a subtle crease forming on your forehead, and after a brief, contemplative moment, you bit your lip and walked over to your trunk to find something to change into yourself, giving one last look at the door before focusing completely on your task. She was out while you finished putting on your socks, leaning down on the bed as you stared at the floor. You missed the way she looked at you, only for a split second, but it was a longing stare.

You also didn’t notice she had walked over to your bed until you felt it dip by your side. The feeling prompted you to sit upright, turning to look at her as quickly as possible. She seemed to be hesitant to speak so you broke the silence instead, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, love–” she said as her shoulders slumped. She was about to say something else, but then you interrupted her, speaking almost a little too fast as you attempted to order your thoughts at the same time as you spoke.

“I shouldn’t have implicated you in my fight with Severus. I was very mad at him for pushing you and James but using your name and his pent-up feelings for you to piss him off was disrespectful. To you more than him. And I did not consider how it might have affected you then, and I’m really sorry if I made you upset–”

“Hey,” she said softly, licking her lips before placing a hand on your arm, much like Remus did often. “I’m sorry too.” You let out a short, relieved breath at the contact, she doesn’t like it when we fight either. “James told me how hard he was shoved,” she explained, “He broke most of it with his arm and the door so I wouldn’t get hurt, but you and Remus must have seen it first hand, of course, you’d be mad.”

“It was pretty bad,” you agreed, if Lily had gotten the full extent of the blow, she might have been sore now.

“And I shouldn’t have lashed out at you either. I’m not excusing you for saying the things you did but I wasn’t just…” she seemed to hesitate for a second, as if she wasn’t sure which words she should use. “I wasn’t just angry at you, I was angry at Severus and at how much he’s changed through the years. He’s insufferable now, and I’m sorry you had to be the one defending me against him when I should be the one standing up for myself, but you didn’t know him then, he was different.”

“He called you a mudblood,” you said, “James a bIood traitor and Remus a–” You didn’t even dare to say it. “I shouldn’t have used you, but there will never be a moment in which I won’t defend my friends, Lily. Even if it’s from their own friends.”

It was her turn to sigh, “I know, it’s what I admire the most from you.”

You leaned your head to the side, a soft smile drawing itself on your lips. “I admire your noble heart,” you said. “And your ability to stay calm in these kinds of situations. You’re like Remus, all warm and calm and conciliating–”

“Oh, come on, you’ve seen me mad plenty of times.”

“Well yes, but you still manage to keep your head cool, I mean if Severus had–” you stopped yourself, you did not want to upset her further, instead you mumbled. “Might have punched him.”

“And be the aggressive Mudblood?” she asked you, your gaze almost fell at her words. She smiled bitterly, “I don’t have the luxury to retaliate like that.”

You swallowed thickly. “It would be more than justified I–” you sighed. And then gave her another worried look, reaching your hand to grab hers. “I never even factored that in.”

The weight of your privilege, the one bestowed upon you by your father who was keen on keeping up appearances of bIood purity, suddenly bore down on you. The privilege of not having to worry about your abilities, or having to prove how good you were simply to belong had never been more evident to you.

Of course, you had your own battles to fight, the world was still not fair for you, for any of your friends, really. But what Lily had to go through, the kind of bigotry she was exposed to and how she had to behave because of it, made you see her in a new light. Hours ago, if anyone told you, you’d admire Lily more than you did, you would have called them mad, and here you were, looking at your beautiful redhead friend and feeling nothing but utmost admiration for her.

She smiled at you. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.”

“Thanks for being the pure heart that holds me down when I’m about to go mad,” you responded with a smile.

And then, laughter rippled through the room, a shared moment of catharsis. You let yourself fall on the bed, both you and Lily now staring at the wooden headboards and red curtains surrounding it. “Lily,” you began, your voice carrying a genuine warmth, “I don’t want to ever lose you as a friend.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll latch onto you like a leech, I’ll be worse than Sirius even, you cannot get rid of me that easily.”

“Not even if I hex Severus?”

“Of course not,” she said with a laugh, but she quickly turned to look at you. “You’re not planning to hex him though, are you?” she asked in a worried tone.

You just laughed in return. “Don’t worry about that, he’ll be suffering his own little issues tonight,” you said in a rather mysterious tone.

She gasped, “What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing.” You answered honestly. “In fact, it was he who stole the treat I was about to eat.”

She threw you a look, “And you had nothing to do with it?”

You shrugged, “Not my fault he and his gang are such gits.”

Lily shook her head disapprovingly even if she had a smile plastered on her face. You stayed next to each other for a while. Eventually, she yawned, and you followed closely after. “You can stay on my bed if you want.”

“Mhm?” She asked as she accommodated herself so her feet would be up on the bed and not resting on the ground like they had been previously since the two of you had been sitting on the edge, “You’re going with the boys? Because of the moon and the experiment Peter suggested, right?”

You nodded in response, and then realised her eyes were closed, “Yes.”

“Good night then,” she said and yawned again. You stood from the bed and brought over some covers from hers to place them on top of her since you had both laid on top of yours. As you did you leaned over to look at her and accommodated her hair behind her ear, you could see some of the freckles she always tried to hide with potions but that you found truly endearing. No wonder James liked her so much, your friend was gorgeous, but that was something you’d always known.

You were too emotionally stirred to see the difference, while you considered both Lily and Remus your closest friends, and while you were attracted to girls, you didn’t even once look at Lily the exact same way you had looked at Remus through the night. The hunger that you felt for the latter was nothing compared to the sheer love and admiration you felt for the redhead. Two very different emotions, and they were there for two very different reasons, but you were still too blind to see. The blindfold, although slowly becoming sheerer, was still there.

“I’m glad we’re still friends,” you whispered as you finished tucking her in. Then you made sure the rest of the girls were asleep before going back to the boy’s room.

Now, it’s not that you were eager to go back to Remus. In fact, you thought you had ogled him enough with the horny potion still running through your system throughout the party –and it wasn’t gone entirely yet– but, just like Lily had mentioned, tomorrow was full moon.

And while the couple of nights you had bunked with the boys had been enough, according to Remus who confirmed Vixen smelled like part of the pack, you had all agreed that the night before the full moon would be the most important. For a couple of reasons: first of all, the closer you smelled to the pack when Moony showed up, the more chances you would have to be accepted by him. Second, after the party, there was a high chance other people’s smells had been mixed in with your own, and thirdly, Remus said it would make him feel at ease knowing that Vixen smelled like nothing other than the pack.

You wanted Remus to be at ease, especially in the particularly complicated time he had just before the moon, so you had all decided you’d meet again after the party was over. James had even lent his cloak so you could sneak out of your room and into theirs quietly.

“What are you doing?” You heard someone whisper in your ear which had you jump a few feet back as you looked around. You had the cloak on, there was no fucking way… “Saw your door open.” The voice explained.

You frowned, finally recognizing him, “Richie?!”

“Boo,” he said as he became visible right in front of you, you stayed safely under the cloak.

“What– what are you doing in the Gryffindor tower?”

“Can’t a ghost roam around freely in the castle?” He asked, with a slightly dramatic tone, ever so characteristic of him. And then looked to the side pointing at the spot where your voice was coming from. “Kinda rude you don’t show yourself after I have.”

You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see it. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m quite literally in the middle of sneaking out of my dorm at three AM, of course, I cannot step out of my hideout,” you whispered.

He hummed at that, “I still think it’s rude,” he said with a shrug.

“How did the portrait lady let you in?”

“She didn’t, I sneaked in. You’re not the only one with secret passages knowledge,” he said, a little haughtily.

You gave him an incredulous look, hardly remembering he couldn’t actually see it. “And you came over because…”

“I was bored, thought of giving the first years something to talk about in their Christmas break,” he responded with a shrug.

“Poor kids,” you said as you shook your head in disapproval.

“What about you?” he countered. “Why are you sneaking out at three in the morning? Are you planning a new prank with your boyfriends?”

You couldn’t quite tell Richie what you were going to do, let alone who you were going to do it with, so it was best to just lie. “Boyfriend, and yes, something like that.”

Richie gave the nothingness a look of incredulity, you thought it was funny that even though he was the ghost, he was the one with a slightly lost gaze as he talked exclusively to your voice. “You keep telling yourself that, little witch.” He said the last thing on purpose, he had heard Remus call you that, and he wanted to tease you over it. Maybe then you’d fucking realise what he had seen a while ago, but you and your stupid boyfriends failed to see.

You shuddered when he said your nickname, no one used that one but Remus. Not even Sirius that seemed to have about 10 different nicknames for you. You certainly did not like the way it sounded when Richie said it. Was it because it sounded a lot more patronizing rather than endearing? Or was it only you who perceived it that way? Of course, you weren’t about to tell him that you didn’t like it when he said it, he had already teased you about nicknames in the past. You did not want to give him yet another reason to be annoying.

You sighed. “Anyway, I’ll let you torture the poor kids, I have somewhere to be.”

“No, wait!” Richie said as he turned to follow your voice. “Where are you going?”

“Boys dorms,” you said honestly. He gave you a look, eyebrows raised and a suggestive smile. You would have nudged him if you could actually touch him. “For the prank you dirty-minded ghost!”

“Of course, of course,” he said as he moved his head from side to side, brows furrowed slightly, his voice dripping with playful condescence.

You huffed at that, worst part was, with the potion that was –now you knew– clearly not gone entirely, you had easily gone back to the thoughts of Remus and Sirius and the fact that you’d actually be sleeping next to the two of them. Your only hope left was that said potion did not emit any sort of effect on Vixen. And that your fox thoughts would be cleaner than your human ones.

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me here,” he whispered, “McGonagall has been getting on my nerves for sneaking into the Slytherin dorms last time. They think James convinced me to do it. As if.”

“See what?” you asked, a complicit smile etched on your features, “I’ve been soundly sleeping on my bed all night.”

He gave a pleased look at that. “Good luck with your boys. Have fun! Take your special teas and potions and all that.”

“Richie!” you admonished. As if you needed warmer thoughts to enter your head. Enough had been your ridiculous admiration of Remus’ torso with how tight the navy-blue shirt fit him. Enough had been the thought that you’d probably end up sleeping right over it. No, not me. Vixen, you corrected yourself. You almost regretted sacrificing yourself for James, but being honest, he would have had it much worse than you did. At least your body wasn’t going to give any physical indication of your thoughts no matter how far they escalated. And honestly, Lily did not need more emotional strain in one night either. You weren’t sure how she would react to a horny James on a normal day, but it would definitely not be positive with the toll of the night.

Richie just shrugged, gave you a wink, and disappeared through a wall. Your eyes trailed behind as you saw him go and then started to walk towards the boys’ dorms. The hallways were dark, and you had to be extra careful not to trip on your way down the set of stairs of the girls’ dorms and up the ones on the boys’. Thankfully you had already taken that same path a good deal of times and you knew how to get from point A to point B with relative stealth.

Once you were outside of their door you had to take a deep breath, forcing the image of shirtless Remus you had seen a while ago off your head, and walked inside. The boys knew you were coming later that night, so you trust they were all presentable. When you walked inside, you spotted James thrown on his bed, tie loose and shirt slightly unbuttoned, snoring just slightly as he was half-covered with the sheets. Peter was on his bed, perfectly tucked and with a Gryffindor beanie that clashed entirely with his purple striped pyjamas. He is cold, you realised, you were too. The cloak had never been that warm.

Then you spotted your boys, the boys, you corrected yourself. Fucking Richie and damn Ackley’s potion, they’d made your mind all wonky. “No use in hiding luv, we saw the door open,” Sirius said, he was on the bed next to Remus who was reading a book you hadn’t seen before. Sirius was sketching something in a small notebook. Both boys stood rather close to each other, but Remus kept his gaze on his book, respecting Sirius’ earlier wish of not snooping on his drawing, even if the temptation was gnawing at him.

You took part of the cloak off and placed it around your shoulders. “You’re drawing,” you pointed.

“Mhm,” Sirius said in response. “Just practising expressions.”

“How’s it going?”

“Surprisingly great, wanna see?” He asked. Both you and Remus looked at him with a rather surprised expression. Sirius had never allowed either of you to see his drawings, and he was now so casually offering it, that it had the two of you puzzled.

“Sirius, are you all right?” you asked as you stepped closer to the bed, letting James’ cloak fall over Remus’ trunk as you did.

“Did you hit your head?” Remus intervened.

“Or took a potion?” You added as you leaned over the bed and placed your hand on his forehead to check if he had some sort of fever.

“What?” The boy asked with a frown as he gently pulled your hand off his head. “No, I– You know what? Never mind.”

You let a disappointed “aw” in response. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to see it, we were just a little surprised,” you said, even pointing at Remus, to show it wasn’t just you that had been taken aback by his offer.

“You’ve never shown us your drawings. At least not the ones in your notebook,” Remus added.

Sirius seemed to hesitate at that, and they were right, he never showed his art to anyone. He had tried to show it to his mother once and she had berated him with it. Telling him it was a useless waste of his time and that he should instead be perfecting his charms, that Regulus was getting ahead of him and that he was lagging behind. That, if he continued, he would lose his chance to get into Hogwarts and would end up cast out of the family like a squib. He was only 8 at the time, and since that day, his drawings, other than the doodles on his notebooks, had been kept to himself.

Sketchbook after sketchbook, sent to him by Andromeda and sometimes even his cool uncle Alphard (who had never been too loved by his mother and who had at least kept in touch with Sirius even after he had been kicked out last summer). Sirius had kept them all hidden and lock-charmed so no one would be able to access his art. But of course, he continued on drawing, sometimes because he saw something he wanted to remember, sometimes because he wanted to get better at it, sometimes for the sake of it, and sometimes because he wanted to piss Walburga off.

Sirius had a rather specific way in which he would sit in the drawing room of his house, and while Regulus studied diligently, he would prop out his sketchbook and draw for hours, waiting for Walburga to come over, just to see her walk out of the room displeased, he enjoyed that look on her face so much that he would draw for even more hours, just to see if she’d come back and make it again.

At some point he’d even found some drawing books in the family library, he had taken all of them and hid them in his trunk, using them to improve his skill –not that the practice hadn’t already done that for him, but he learnt a lot about proportions with those. Later on owling them to James and asking him to hide them when things got rougher at home. That Christmas he’d gotten even more books, all thanks to the Potters who’d given him a few as gifts (he had stayed with them over the break while telling his parents he’d be at Hogwarts), James had given him a set of always-sharp drawing pencils that he still used to this day. James had also told Peter and Remus about Sirius’ passion for drawing. Peter had gotten him some colouring pencils while Remus got him a leather bound sketchbook, the same he was using today, in fact.

“Yeah I–” Sirius was hesitant, he didn’t even notice how easily it had slipped off his tongue. How he had just offered the two of you to see his drawing. The more he thought about it, the more he realised, he wanted the two of you to see it. He trusted you, unlike he’d ever trusted anyone in his life, and it was scary, giving someone so much power over him and his emotions.

“Hey,” you said softly, noticing his change in demeanour. “I’m sure both me and Rem would love to see your drawing. See what that pretty mind of yours came up with,” you reassured as you pointed at his forehead with one of your fingers as you mentioned his mind. “But neither of us is going to pressure you.”

“We’re okay if you keep it to yourself,” Remus added, for good measure. He was feeling all sorts of warm feelings as he saw you treat Sirius with such kindness, to touch him with such tenderness, Merlin knew that boy needed this kind of affection and he was thrilled, that even if he couldn’t give it to him himself –not in the way he wanted at least– you could still do that for him. You really were made for each other. And he really was in the middle of a tender moment and he wasn’t sure if he should stay in it, not that either of you seemed to mind, you never did, he realised.

“I want you to see it,” Sirius mumbled and he handed the sketchbook your way, one of his fingers in between the pages, to mark where the drawing was. You took it in your hands and opened it slowly when you realised what it was you gasped.

“It’s beautiful,” you said honestly. Both the drawing and the person he had drawn. Sirius swallowed thickly, he wasn’t insecure about many things, but he had never shown his art to anyone. “You’ve captured him perfectly.”

“Who?” Remus asked, now intrigued and leaning over to see the drawing as well.

“You,” you said as you tilted the sketchbook over so he could see it as well. Remus’ eyes opened wide with surprise as he saw himself sketched out in the notebook.

When Sirius said he was “practising” his expressions, he really meant it, he had sketched out a perfect version of Remus’ side profile as he read a book, his brow just slightly furrowed as he was looking at a particularly intriguing section of the detective novel he’d been reading earlier. “You were… you were drawing me?” he stuttered, as his eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath.

“You mind?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head slightly.

Remus wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he mind? No, if anything he was flattered, barely holding the blush starting to creep up his cheeks, he never thought he’d be the subject of one of Sirius’ drawings, let alone the many he had already been of and would be in the future. “No,” he said honestly. “I just didn’t realise.”

“You were very absorbed in your book,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Wasn’t even being careful about it.”

You turned to Sirius then, he’s drawn him before, you thought, it was in the way the lines were so sure, confident as if he knew exactly what he was doing and had to focus solely on his expression. But it made so much sense, they were roommates after all. You then wondered if he had drawn you too, was it possible that you too had been so engrossed in yourself that you hadn’t noticed?

The drawing of Remus was beautiful, it truly reflected him in every way, but Remus had never seen himself as beautiful as he had been plastered on the sketch. He was truly stunning in Sirius’ gaze, and if that was what he looked like to you, then perhaps it too made sense when you called him beautiful. You’d even called him beautiful when you’d first seen the drawing. Well, was that him or was it Sirius’ talent that you had been praising? He chose to think a little bit was because of him.

“Sirius it’s incredible,” you repeated as you gazed at the drawing again. “I expected you to be good but–”

“I’m always good with my hands,” he said as he threw a wink your way and you almost pushed him off the bed entirely. You did not need dirty thoughts added.

“My love you wound me,” he said dramatically as he let himself fall back onto Remus’ lap. Remus had reacted just fast enough to pull the sketchbook up, Sirius looked at him with a cheeky little smile. “Moony, you’re awfully comfortable,” he teased. The two of you praising his art had gotten him in a dreadfully good mood.

His two favourite people on earth had seen his drawing and they had both thought it was beautiful. Or at least been kind enough to pretend it was, he was pretty sure the two of you were being honest with him, though. He wasn’t always good at seeing through lies, but he was good when it mattered.

Wait– his two favourite people in the world?

Remus rolled his eyes as he looked down on Sirius, trying not to think of how beautiful he looked and instead of how annoying he was by taking up his personal space so brazenly. Problem was, even that he found endearing. The urge to brush his fingers through his perfectly chiselled nose was almost mortifying.

Sirius wasn’t in a much better position either, he had focused so much on his drawing that he had forgotten he had actual Remus Lupin –who for some reason he now considered insanely attractive– looking at him like he was the only person in the room. They locked eyes for a moment and Sirius swallowed.

You looked at the scene curiously and he seemed not to mind much the kind of attention Rem was providing him with, you already knew he loved being coddled. Sirius had always been touchy and cuddly, searching for the lack of affection his parents had given him wherever he could find it, but he and Remus had gotten a lot closer –physically at least– since you all started doing the pack cuddling thing this month. And while you found it endearing, that Sirius could find love not only with you but elsewhere as well in case you weren’t around to help him out, there was something about the way they were looking at each other in that particular moment that made you do a double take, or at least to stare a little closely. Have you missed something? That look was an awful lot like–

Suddenly there was a stir on the bed and the sketchbook fell from Remus’ hands. When he picked it up, the page had changed, and when he looked at it, he couldn’t actually hide the blush that crept up his cheeks, “Sirius Black!” he said in an admonishing tone.

Sirius, who had turned his gaze to you and was pulling onto your leg, turned his head quickly and gasped when he saw the drawing Remus was looking at, “Close it, close it!”

Remus did as told in an instant, swallowing thickly as he remembered the drawing. Sirius now was blushing as well. “What– what was that?” You asked with a small frown, completely changing your train of thought, now focusing solely on the sketchbook.

“Nothing,” Remus said simply.

“Don’t worry about it, Starshine,” Sirius said, but that was not his cool and controlled voice. You could see how nervous he was, whatever it was that Remus had seen in the sketchbook, he clearly did not want you to see it too, which obviously made you want to see it even more. Meanwhile, Remus was struggling not to think of the drawing now burned into his brain.

You scrutinised their reactions, the only sound in the room the gentle rustle of the fabric as you shifted on the bed. Your gaze darted between them, before deciding to focus on the latter. “Sirius?” He swallowed.

“You don’t want to see it, trust me,” Remus said as coolly as he could, but you could clearly see through his bullshit.

“Your lies only make me more curious.”

“I’ll show it to you later.”

“How will I know it’s the same?”

“Because you trust me?” Sirius responded with a shrug.

“Would you show it to me later?” You asked as you turned to Remus.

He cleared his throat, he really did not need to think of the drawing again. “Yes,” he lied.

“Okay fine,” you responded, and laid back for a second, Remus had the sketchbook still in his hands.

Sirius was looking at you attentively, not sure how you had let the subject go so easily when you jumped forward to try and grab the notebook from Remus’ hands. But Remus’ reflexes had always been faster and he moved the book out of the way as you crashed against him and caused him to fall back on the bed with you on top. You, being deterred not even a little bit, pulled your hand forward to try and grab it again when Sirius grabbed you by the waist firmly and held you from moving forward again.

Remus, meanwhile was trying not to think of the image, and now also your body pressed against him, and you, being so engrossed in your task, didn’t quite realise exactly what you were doing.

“Starshine please, I promise I’ll show it to you later,” Sirius pleaded as he held you back from reaching towards Remus’ long outstretched hand.

“Why not now?” you asked as you continued trying to move.

“Because!” he said. “You’re all over Moony, come on!” he added as he tried to pull you back.

You looked down, he was right, you were all over Remus, more specifically, all over the broad chest you had been thinking about all night, and you couldn’t help but think how firm it felt underneath you. But you still wanted to know.

“What was it?” you asked, squirming as you tried to get out of Sirius’ grasp.

“Anatomy study.”

Finally, you stilled. Looking up to see how red Remus’ cheeks had gotten, and how he swallowed thickly after Sirius’ words. Now actually noticing how close you were to Remus and the compromising position your legs had been in, and the way they had entangled onto Remus’ and how long you had been there and how Sirius had been trying to pull you back by the waist and how flustered the two boys looked and suddenly it dawned on you.

You scattered back in an instant, falling on Sirius’ lap as you did, he stilled you easily since his hands were still on your waist and you turned to him, your heart hammering on your chest. The thoughts currently roaming in your head weren’t making this entire ordeal any easier for you.

“Do you mean-” you swallowed. “That kind of anatomy study?”

Sirius sighed and looked at the side, before turning his gaze back to you. Remus was looking at the entire situation, at the position both you and Sirius had ended up in trying not to feel things, let alone imagine other ones.

“Yes,” Sirius answered, giving you a look. “You really want to see?” he asked. He was sure what your answer could be, that didn’t stop Remus from sending him a reproachful look, as if telling him what a terrible idea that was.

And if it had been any other day, you might have said yes. But after the potion, whatever and whoever Sirius had drawn, would probably be a terrible idea to look at, you already had enough heated thoughts as it was. Only made worse by the fact that you were now sitting on his lap and had been right over Remus earlier. Godric! How much longer for you to stop sexualizing your best friend?

A lump formed in your throat and shook your head. “Show me a different day,” you said as you stared at him. Sirius nodded as he looked at you and you missed the way Remus let out a relieved breath. “Let’s uh– Let’s sleep now.”

Neither of the boys argued, Remus placed the sketchbook on his night table and waved his wand to turn the lights off. You instantly turned into a fox and walked over to the end of the bed to try and clear your thoughts. Sirius extended his hand to pull you closer but ended up holding back and turning into a Padfoot instead. Then he walked closer to you and picked up Vixen carefully with his snout.

You stilled as he did and allowed him to drop you over Remus’ chest, as you accommodated you realised Remus’ heartbeat was beating abnormally fast and you couldn’t help but think of the picture again. What the hell had Sirius drawn to garner such a reaction? You shook your head then, don’t need to know, don’t need to know!

Sirius was getting comfortable on the side by now, and he placed his snout over Remus’ shoulder, close to Vixen’s, and closed his eyes. But even if the three of you had your eyes closed, and even if the three of you were really trying to fall asleep, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were sleeping on Remus’ chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about the drawing he’d seen and Sirius could not stop thinking how adorable Remus had looked with the blush creeping up his cheek, let alone the compromising position you had both ended up in earlier. And it stayed like that, all of you attempting to calm your breaths, until at least half an hour later when one by one, you started to fall asleep.

The next day had gone pretty fast, you’d woken up and walked back to your room to get changed into your flying gear, meeting Sirius and James just outside of the common room for the last flight of the year, since everyone would be packing their bags for home the following day. Well, everyone except for Remus who’d go back home until after Christmas.

After flying you had taken the last few classes of the year, which consisted of some teachers actually trying to teach, some final project presentations and some others of teachers who just allowed everyone to do whatever they wanted during the class time. On charms, you spent almost the entire class playing Wizards’ chess with Marlene and Mary while James and Sirius spent the class writing his essays for potions. Both using yours and Remus’ as a guide.

On potions Slughorn had you present the essays and he congratulated everyone, even Sirius, got a slightly higher mark on that one than Severus, whom you’d heard had spent weeks working on, you couldn’t stop the slight mocking giggle that escaped your lips when he announced the grades. That was until you got yours and it was lower than Sirius’, who just shrugged awkwardly and gave you an apologetic smile.

Sure, your head had been a little muddled while you wrote it (which was at some point after the friendly game with Neil and Nox) but you still thought your argument had been solid, even if Slughorn said that you didn’t have enough sources to back it up.

“But where did you even get your sources? You literally used my essay as a base!” you asked Sirius as you read over his.

He just shrugged, “made them up,” he said honestly and proceeded to show you the page where he had added them, which contained all sorts of ridiculous names like David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Steve Walsh, Brad Delp and even some surreal ones like Moonsmus Lup and Vixenia Starr.

“Oh, so you even gave us credit,” you said as you hovered your index over the ridiculous names he’d invented based on your nicknames. “How on earth did he buy that?”

“Mom and dad used to have pretty rare books in the library,” he explained, “books rarely available to the general public…”

You nodded as you pursed your lip. Half surprised, half admired by his boldness, “Next time I’ll add some myself.”

“The weirdest the names, the more he loves it.”

Herbology had gone by like charms, Mr. Folly was talking about properties of some curative flowers with the students who were interested in them –and who wanted to go for either medical or herboreal careers– and allowed the rest to do their thing. You had spent the time talking to Beth and Tom, planning to get together in London after the trip on the train to get some gifts for your friends.

Remus had excused himself before the class was over and walked over to Pomfrey who took him straight to the shack. You had all agreed that you’d meet him there a little before 6 pm which was the estimated time for the moon to appear that night.

After changing into the same clothes you had been wearing the previous night, just for good measure and according to Remus’ instructions, he said it would be for the best, to “maximize the smell of the pack” but also –and secretly– for his very own enjoyment. Not that it didn’t also translate to your and Sirius’ enjoyment, the three of you rather liked the way you smelled when your scents were all combined with each other. From Sirius always smelling slightly like leather, added to the light notes of your perfume that lingered on each other, all the way to the faint smell of Remus’ aftershave potion and the ever-present smell of chocolate that seemed to surround him. It was certainly an interesting mix, but one you had all grown to love.

“You ready?” Sirius asked while Wormtail sprinted towards the Whomping Willow, they had told you that the tree had a secret branch that if you pressed it right, it would calm him enough to let you through, and Wormtail was currently working on making it happen.

You nodded in response, paying close attention to the way Wormtail walked and how after a small flick of his tiny rat-like hands, the Willow stilled. You looked marvelled at the sight of the usually bellic tree looking so serene. You let out a small scoff.

“What is it?” James asked.

You pointed at the tree, “A trick like that would have saved my Nimbus.”

“But we wouldn’t have ended up snogging under it,” Sirius said with a sneaky little smirk as he passed his hand over your shoulders.

“Is that why you were late after the race?” James asked with a gasp. “We were all mad worried!”

“We also had some things to discuss,” you said with a small shrug, “I thought Sirius hated me.”

James genuinely laughed at that, “He was bIoody smitten!”

“Yeah, I guess I should have seen the signs…” you replied as you turned to your boyfriend, “It was in those pretty puppy eyes of his.”

He pulled his tongue out and then started running towards the tree, you smiled and followed shortly behind. James, on the other hand, lagged back just for a moment, noting how you chased behind Sirius with a bright smile plastered on your face, filled with only blithe thoughts as you walked towards the wolf’s den; as if you weren’t even slightly worried for the outcome of the night.

And you really weren’t, as far-fetched as it was, you thought Peter’s idea of using scents to trick Moony into not wanting to eat you, made sense. You had been sneaking into the restricted section to look up some more werewolf-related tomes, sometimes with Sirius and sometimes by yourself, all in the hopes that you’d find something to back your claim up –and rip some more of those murder pages off of them– and even though you hadn’t found something that confirmed it, you had found some text that talked about how heavily werewolves leaned onto scents to hunt and track humans down.

You had also taken some other “muggle animals” from the muggle studies section of the library and read about the normal wolves, and while you hadn’t found any stance in which they did something similar to what you had planned, there were some stances in which packs of wolves adopted stray and small dogs and raised them as their own. Now Vixen wasn’t either a stray, nor a dog, but she was canine, so that must atone for something, right? Either way, you had built a pretty strong case for Peter’s theory in your head, and while you couldn’t actually ask a teacher about it, you were about to do something that Lily had taught you was “the scientific method” in muggle terms. It was simple, you got a theory, and you tested it out to see if it would work. Now, according to Lily, the testing was in a controlled setting with proper security, your security would be Prongs, Padfoot and how fast you could move as Vixen, but you were still optimistic enough to go through with it. It had to work, otherwise, things would only get harder.

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A/N: Hey everyone? How is it going? Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's one of the fluffiest we've gotten in a while hehe You guys were asking for a new Q&A so I'm working on it at the moment, send all the questions you may want to be added here, or directly on asks. Love, Lils xx

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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 10 months

Text

I’ll borrow this music and give it to you.

Anon requests:

N/A

Wordcount: 17.8K+

Masterlist

Description: From Childhood crush, first love, and heartbreak, Amy and Laurie were staples in your life and you wouldn’t where you’ll be without them. Through fights, tears, and break up your roads always led back to each other.

A/N: So here this is. It’s insane how long this is. It is the longest thing I have written to do and I am very proud of myself for writing something this long. It took working on it off and on all month and I kept adding new scenes, I hope you all love it. Title is long but it is based on a song I listened to on repeat while writing them. Tagging @livresjaunes I hope you like it.

And also tagging @sufferingstarlight as their Queer week and Throple fic inspired me.

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Slow burn, friends to love, Reunited lovers, first love, young love, Traid couple. Smut. A lot of flashbacks. Mention of child abuse, abusive family. Homophobia and innerhomophobia. Character death- not major.

Amy

Those were the first words you thought of in the morning and the last words you thought of at night. Amy was your best friend. How could you not think of her all the time? No one made you as happy as Amy, no one knew you as well as Amy did, and no one held you together quite like Amy did.

She was more than your best friend, she was your life, your person. So she was a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but she was young and eager to be different from her sisters. To have 3 lovely sisters that everyone loved was hard for her. She wanted to be just like them and stand apart from them.

You saw Amy apart from her sisters. You saw how smart, talented, and strong she was. You always had her back, always by her side to build her up when she was down, to make her laugh when she was sad.

“Amy, you’ll get into trouble if you do that,” you whispered over her shoulder, biting your lip nervously, looking around the room to ensure the teacher was still gone.

“You worry too much. I want to show everyone my skills,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at you. The other girls laughed at your fear, egging her on.

“We all know you are talented, you don’t have to get into trouble to prove it,” you huffed going back to your seat and pulling out a book to read. You enjoyed school and you didn’t like being on your teacher’s bad side.

“Miss March,” The teacher snapped when he saw Amy drawing on the desk. His loud voice made you jump slightly and you stared at Amy.

“Hand, Miss March,” he said.

When Amy started to cry you stood up. “You can’t just hit her. You can’t just hit any of us,” you said, stubbornly.

“Would you like to take her hits for her?” He asked glaring at you.

“No,” Amy said standing up. “It is my punishment,” she said to him, but her eyes were on you.

You pouted slightly. You were stronger than Amy, you were used to being hit. Something that Amy was well aware of and always tried to protect you from it. The last thing you would do is to allow you to get punished for something she did.

You had to look away as his ruler came down on her knuckles again and again. Her sobs made you sob as well and then she was running out of the school, ignoring the calls of the teacher.

“You are a horrible teacher,” you spat at him.

“You all will thank me one day,” he said, going to the front of the room.

You scoffed, slamming your books on the desk. “I wouldn’t ever thank you and if I had my way you’ll never teach again.”

“Well, I am glad you have no say then. Now sit down before you are punished,” he threatened.

You glared at him, grabbing your things and leaving. You refused to be around him any longer. You were sure the male students were not hit like you all were, it was unfair.

You ran straight to the March household looking for Amy, only for her family to be just as shocked to know she left school. “I am sorry, Marmee. I should have left with her. I should have never let him hurt her,” you sobbed on her shoulder.

She hugged you close. You were her bonus daughter. She knew your home life was less than ideal and while she didn’t know all the details, just that your father and brother had died years ago and your mother didn’t know how to cope with the loss, she knew you needed love.

The abuse wasn’t something she could fathom. She just thought your mother was suffering and you fell to the side in her suffering. It didn’t matter to her, she saw you as a March, and loved and adored you as one of her own.

“It is alright, my darling. It is not your fault. He was wrong for hurting her and Amy should have come straight home,” she said, kissing your forehead.

Just then, Meg came into the room. “I found Amy, she is next door.”

The moment you saw Amy on the sofa you ran to her side hugging her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. She sobbed as well as the whole family hugged her tightly. Both of you crying too much for anyone to understand your words.

A throat clearing and a slight cough had you pulling away from Amy and seeing a boy a few years older than you and Amy. His eye caught yours and he smiled kindly, you sniffled wiping your face.

“Hello,” you said politely.

“Hello,” he said back, walking forward and giving you a tissue.

You thanked him and took the tissue. Amy giggled from your side pulling your attention to her.

“That is Laurie Laurance,” she whispered into your ear. “This is his home. He is new in town,” she said, never taking her eyes off of him. “Isn’t he beautiful?” She asked.

You looked back at him. He was beautiful. Astonishingly beautiful, his eyes soft and kind. He stood tall, but not overly confident, he had a look in his eye that you liked. But you didn’t like the way Amy looked at him. “He is okay,” you stated.

“He was so kind to me, and look at his curls,” she gushed.

You ignored her commented and grabbed her hand, kissing it softly. “I am sorry about your hand.”

Amy smiled, touching your cheek. “You are my best friend, I love you, but you shouldn’t have tried to take my punishment.”

“Maybe if your punishment was worthy of the crime, hitting us like that is barbaric.”

“That is why Jo should teach us both at home, right, Jo?” Amy said turning to face her.

“No no. You two are too young, too rowdy, and never listen,” Jo said, shaking her head.

“Oh please oh please. We are mature enough, please,” Amy begged.

“Please Jo we can’t go back to the horrible man. I’m sure my mother will pay you a lot.” Your father was a wealthy man and when he died it all went to your mother. While she didn’t care about you much, she never had much of a problem with spending money on you. Her way of trying to make up for the neglect.

“I will think about it,” Jo sighed.

With your mother offering Jo a number she couldn’t refuse, she began teaching you and Amy at home. It was heaven being taught at home and being able to be with Amy without having to fight for her attention from your former classmates.

The only time you didn’t have her attention is when it was on Laurie. You hated him for it. His stupid smile and his stupid eyes. He was so kind and sweet all the time and you hated it.

As you grew up you realized that your feelings for Amy changed. They weren’t the sisterly/ best friend feelings you had once, no they had grown deeper. Feelings you shouldn’t have for another woman and it frightened you.

“Amy,” you asked when you were 15. You both were sitting by the lake. Her head was in your lap and your fingers ran through her hair, she looked up from her sketchbook at you when you spoke. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“Kissed anyone? Like a boy?”

“Yes. A boy or maybe a girl…”

“A girl?” She asked sitting up, staring at you with wide eyes.

“I don’t know, just. You hear about things right? Like women in Europe that never marry and spend all their time together. People say they are in love.”

“Women in love with other women?” She questioned her face pinched up in confusion.

“And men in love with other men,” you added, worriedly.

“Well, I suppose love is love. You can’t help who you love,” she shrugged. “I’ve never kissed a boy or a girl. Have you?”

You shook your head. “No never.”

“Really? But your mother takes you to all those fancy parties with all the rich and handsome boys and girls.”

“I guess I don’t like any of them.”

“Have you seen Laurie at the parties?” She asked.

You furrowed your brows. “Sometimes, but I have never kissed him.”

She looked off in a daze for a moment before turning back to you. “Shall we kiss?” She asked.

Your eyes widened and your heart sped up. “What?”

“Well, I love you and you love me. Marmee always said your first kiss should be with someone you love. That way we will have practice for later on,”

“Later on?” You asked.

“Yeah, later on.” She grinned moving closer to you. She cuffed the side of your face tenderly. You’ve never been touched so softly before your breath caught. “Can I kiss you now?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as your lips slightly brushed against each other.

“Amy is that you?” Jo shouted from down the lake.

You and Amy jumped pulling away from each other. Your face grew hot and Amy flushed bright red. Jo quickly ran over with Laurie in tow.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you finished your schoolwork? And you didn’t clean the attic like you were meant to,” Jo scowled.

You sighed in relief as it seemed she didn’t see you two kissing.

“Jo, I will get to it later,” Amy whined. Jo was having none of it and grabbed her arm and started to drag her away chastising her the whole way. Amy tried to pull away, looking back at you, but Jo kept walking.

You stared wistfully after her.

“What are you thinking?” Laurie asked. You jumped having forgotten all about him, you flushed looking up at him, seeing him already staring at you.

“Theo,” you said. As your feelings for Amy grew and her admiration for Laurie grew, you started to call him Theo to annoy her which turned into you calling him that to his face sometimes.

“Why do you call me that?” He asked, laughing slightly as he took a seat next to you.

“Do you not like it?”

“Hmm, I’m unsure. My mother used to call me that.”

You gasped slightly feelings horrible. “Oh, Laurie, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I-I”

He laughed, placing his hand on yours. “It’s okay. I guess I missed being called that. Most people call me Laurie. Jo calls me Teddy, but I miss being Theo.”

“Then I will call you Theo,” you smiled.

Laurie’s smile back was heart stopping and for a moment you felt your own heart skip a beat.

“What were you and Amy doing?” He asked.

Your heart skipped again. “What did you see?” You asked.

“Nothing if that is what you wish.”

“Did Jo see?” You asked fearfully.

“No, she was too upset.”

“Thank you, Theo.”

“Of course, that is what friends are for.”

You felt bad for your disliking of Laurie and after that, you two became a bit closer. He saved you from your mother's overbearingness at parties and you two made jokes together and almost had your own language, which was just a mix of French and Italian.

“Do you think about going to Italy for your studies?” You asked him once.

Laurie was walking you home after you both spend the day putting on plays with the March girls. You were arm and arm and the night was cool and you both walked close together to stay warm.

“I don’t want to leave here. It’s home for me. You, my grandfather, the Marchs’, it’s home.”

“But Italy was home once. You lived there with your parents.”

“I think it would be too emotional to go back home for school. To be surrounded by the memories but alone, would be too much for me,” he said, shrugging, looking at the ground

You stopped walking tugging on his arm until he looked at you. “ Theo… I will make a promise to you. If you ever want to go back, I will go with you. We will walk down the street, eat all the food and be happy.

You can show me all the places you remember and then we can go there and make happy memories and then if you need to let out your emotions, my shoulders are here for you,” you smiled, patting his cheek.

Laurie was silent for a moment before a smile took over his face and he pulled you into a hug. He buried his head into your shoulder, he sniffled slightly. You let him hug you for as long as he needed, patting his back lightly.

When he pulled away he was smiling. “I am glad we have grown closer. I adore Jo and all the girls, but I feel like there are things I can talk to you about that I can’t with them.”

You nodded in understanding. “I feel the same. Amy is my best friend, but you Theo are someone I can be myself with.”

“I know you have lost your father and brother. And I want you to know you can talk to me about them, you can talk to me about anything.”

“And you can do the same.”

He told you about his feelings for Jo, but never pushed to hear more about yours for Amy but let you know if you wanted to talk about your feelings that he was there. He made you laugh and made you feel safe. Along with Amy, he was your person too.

The three of you were a little unit. A combined subunit of You and Amy and Laurie and Jo. It wasn’t often that the three of you were together but it was always a good time when you were

“So tell me, Theo, what is it you want to do with your life?” You were at the Marchs’ and after a slight incident, you were huddled by the fire wrapped in a thick blanket with Laurie and Amy, you all shivering.

“What do I want to do with my life? Why must I do anything? I have money already,” he said with a wide grin. Amy giggled behind her hands and he shot her a quick wink.

“He does have a point,” she said, from your other side.

“There must be something you are passionate about though?” You asked.

He twisted his mouth towards the left and thought about your question. “Music, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “I like constructing it, operas, symphonies, anything really. I like telling stories through music.” Laurie glanced over at you both once he was finished and ducked his head slightly.

“Wow that’s amazing Laurie,” Amy said. “You should do it.”

“I agree that’s an incredible talent,” you added.

“How would you know, you haven’t heard any of my works.”

“I just know,” you grinned.

He blushed and looked away from you.

Amy cleared her throat and hugged her mug of cocoa. “Well, I for one want to hear with you wrote. Oh please let us hear some,”

“Yeah, Theo, please,” You begged along with Amy.

“Alright. Alright, I promise when I write something good I’ll show you both. Now what about you, what do you want to do?”

“Oh, I am unsure,” you said looking down at your hands. “I don’t think I have any talents.”

“Oh, she is being modest, she is multitalented. She is a wonderful singer, and she is so good with words and languages, and she is the best model, she poses for all my sketches.”

It was your turn to be flustered and you looked into your cup. “I like learning most, reading and I don’t know.. I like words a lot, but I’m not sure that is a talent.”

“Are you joking? That is an amazing talent, “Laurie said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Well if you are talking talent then we can’t leave out Amy, her drawings are so detailed and done with so much care and patience. One day we will see her work in museums all over the world.”

Amy buried her face into your shoulder. “I am not that good. Laurie, she is exaggerating.”

“I am not. She is amazing.”

“I could be better,” she mumbled.

Laurie smiled at the two of you. He reached around and pat her head. “You have so much time to perfect your craft, Amy. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I won’t. With both your encouragement, I’ll work harder,” she said determined.

“Okay, I have cookies, who wants some,” Hannah said coming into the room.

“We do,” you all shouted at the same time, laughing.

For a while, life was nice, simple, and perfect.

“You should marry soon.” Your mother said, years later, walking into the room and interrupting your reading. You sighed softly, closing your book.

“Mother, I am only 17,” you said.

“At your age, I was married and on my second child,” She huffed.

“I will marry when I meet a nice man,” you said.

“There are plenty of nice men. How about Simon Baker?”

“He is 35,”

“And rich and without a wife.”

You huffed.

“Is this about that March girl?” she questioned walking closer to you, putting you on high alert.

“Amy is my friend.”

“Don’t lie to me. I see the way you look at her. It’s disgusting.”

“Amy is my friend,” you repeated.

“And what about that Laurence boy?”

“Also a friend.”

“At least that one would make a good partner.”

“He is a friend.”

“Maybe if he was a friend in the same way as the March I wouldn’t have to marry you off.”

“You can’t marry me off,” you said, gasping at her.

“I can do as I please.”

You didn’t want to argue it never ended well, so you turned back to your book huffing.

“Don’t huff at me. You will marry someone and do it soon. I am sick of you in this house,” she said, grabbing the back of your head and pulling your hair roughly a few times, pulling a few bits out.

You cried out and she shoved you to the ground. “Disappointment, why couldn’t you be like your brother.”

“He is dead mother. I can’t bring him back and you can’t keep punishing me. I didn’t kill him or father.”

“Shut up, you insolent girl,” she said, slapping you.

You stood up and ran out of the house. You ran all the way to the March house, but no one was home. You sobbed, needing to see Amy. To have her wrap her arms around you and tell you everything will be okay.

You left the March house a mess. Having no place to go you ran to the lake. You were so distraught you didn’t even notice Laurie or that you were close to falling into the water. Luckily, Laurie wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you.

“What’s wrong, what happened? You’re bleeding,” he said, touching your head, making you sob harder, and wrapping your arms around his waist.

Laurie held you close, whispering softly to calm you down as he led you to his home. He sat you down and grab a cloth to clean you up. “What happened to you?”

“My mother. She hates me. She hates me because I am not dead, she hates me because I am not my brother, she hates me because I have feelings for Amy. Everything about me she hates,” you sobbed

“I am sure she doesn’t hate you.”

“She does. And maybe she is right, I am odd. Unnatural,” you sobbed.

“No. There is nothing wrong with you. You are perfectly fine. She is wrong, lost in grief, and takes it out on you. You are not unnatural. Nothing about love is unnatural.” Laurie wiped your tears, smiling softly at you. “If you are unnatural. Then, I am as well.”

“She wishes to marry me off to some horrible man. He’s 35 years old and lives in Europe. I’ll never see any of you ever again.”

“She won’t.”

“She will. She will.”

“Do you dislike men? Maybe you can marry someone else. Someone kind? Or at least court someone to get her off your back.”

“I’ve… I don’t know. I’ve never thought about men or other women, it’s always been Amy,” you sniffled.

“Well then maybe you like men as well. Maybe you could fool her for a bit.”

“What if I can’t what if I don’t like them? What if I can’t pretend or kiss them or-” You were cut off by Laurie’s lips pressing against yours.

Your eyes widened slightly, but his lips were soft, warm, and just Laurie's. Your eyes closed and you leaned into his kiss. He cupped your face and you placed your hands over his.

He pulled away after a few moments and your eyes opened to stare into his. “How was that?” He whispered.

“It was nice. Really nice,” You smiled. “Have you done this before, Theo?”

He shook his head. “I am glad to see you are not crying anymore. You are my friend and I hate to see you down. I won’t let your mother marry you off,” he assured you.

“Laurie have you seen- “Amy paused as she came into the room with her sisters and saw you and Laurie. His hands are still on your face and yours on top of his.

You quickly pulled away from him and his hands dropped quickly as he looked at Jo, but your eyes never left Amy. Her face pinched slightly but then she was running to you, and cupping your face.

You were confused until you remember the way you looked. Face puffy and probably dried blood in your hair.

“What happened, sweet girl?” She asked.

You just moved closer to her wrapping your arms around her neck. You felt Laurie get up from the sofa and you pulled back from Amy slightly to grasp his wrist. “Theo, thank you,” you whispered in Italian.

He nodded and walked out of the room with the rest of the Marchs’.

“Sweet girl?” Amy questioned.

You turned back to her telling her about your fight with your mother, going to her home and Laurie finding you. Leaving out the part about your feelings and kiss.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t home. I’m sorry that she hurt you. You know she is wrong, you don’t need to be your brother. You are beautiful, smart, and so talented. You know one day we should move away. Go to Paris I can paint and you can study all the languages and read all the books you want.

“We would run away together?” You questioned.

“Yes just the two of us. Won’t that be fun?” she said, wiping your tears and kissing your forehead.

“I would like that very much.”

Amy smiled, pressing her lips to yours quickly. Since your first kiss, you two shared kisses on multiple occasions. Amy moved to the sofa and pulled you into her arms, holding you close. “I would like that as well.”

It was only days later, when things took a turn in your life.

“You and Laurie are really close these days,” Amy said on one of your walks days later.

“He is closer to Jo,” you said. “And I’m closer to you,” you added, bumping her shoulder.

She didn’t smile. “Yet closer than I am with him.”

“Are you jealous?” You said, trying to hide your smile. You were 17 now. Despite all the kisses you two shared over the last few years, you were always uncertain about her feelings for you, but if she was jealous then maybe she felt the same.

“Maybe, I don’t like it.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t lose me.”

She groaned, “I know that, but still.”

You chuckled. “You are my best friend. Theo is just a friend.”

“You call him Theo.”

“You are my best friend,” and then you grabbed her shoulders, stopping her from walking, and kissed her pouting lips.

Amy pulled away. “Stop it, don’t kiss me when I am upset with you.”

You frowned. “Why are you upset? You won’t lose me,”

“Yes, but I could lose him. I first had to compete with Jo and now you for his affection.”

“You… like Laurie?”

She threw her hands up. “Of course I like Laurie.

“Laurie? Laurie? You like Laurie?”

“Yes yes. Has it not been obvious?”

Of course, it has been. Of course, you never thought about it, you had a suspension once, but you thought it was something small and passing. You thought that… you thought she felt something for you. You were stupid.

“Why did you kiss me all the time if you like Laurie?”

“For practice. We were practicing,” she said as if it was obvious.

Practiced. You thought about her words when you were young to practice for later. You wanted to be upset with her. You wanted to yell at her, but it wasn’t her fault she didn’t love you. That she didn’t know that the kisses meant more to you.

Your eyes filled with tears. “Laurie doesn’t love you, Amy,” you said hurtfully.

She scoffed, “And he doesn’t love you either.”

“I know that. I know he is in love with Jo,”

“He is not. Stop trying to say things to hurt me.”

“I am not. I am telling the truth.”

“How could you be so cruel to hurt me because I like him? Are you jealous?”

You were now in a state of panic. You couldn’t tell her about your feelings now. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have told you that I kissed Theo.”

She gasped. “What? You kissed him?”

“He kissed me actually.” You were being cruel now, and you hated yourself for it.

Her eyes filled with tears as well. “I thought you were my best friend,”

You scoffed. “I’ve been more than your best friend for years.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing Amy, nothing at all.”

She frowned. “No, tell me.”

“No.”

“If you are my best friend then tell me.”

“Don’t use that, Amy March.”

“I just did. We tell each other everything.”

“You didn’t tell me about your feelings for Laurie.”

“And you didn’t tell me about your kiss with him.”

“I suppose we are not as close as we thought then. Good night, Amy.”

You turned and walked toward your home. You so badly wanted Amy to run after you, shout after you or something, but nothing happened and you slowly let the tears fall as you walked away with a broken heart and a destroyed friendship. You ran home and sobbed in your room for hours.

For the next few weeks, you avoided going out into town you didn’t want to see Amy or any of your friends. It was awful being alone and with your mother, it was worse. She spent every moment telling you how worthless you were or trying to push Simon onto you. You spent time with him just to get her off your back and to not be alone.

The first time you left the house you ran into Amy with a group of girls you once went to school with. They were laughing about something and having a good time. You made eye contact with Amy and she quickly turned away as if she didn’t see you.

Your heart ached and you ran all the way home. Making a rash decision, you told your mother you would marry Simon and move to Europe with him. She was overjoyed and within two weeks you were married and on a plane to England.

You sat under a tree in a busy park in France. It was a warmer day, but there was a nice breeze. The perfect day to enjoy a good book. You took a deep breath and enjoyed the French air. Children ran around causing a smile to grow on your face. You were happy and content.

You were 23 and a widow. Your late husband was not the cruel man you thought him to be. He was kind and gentle and understood that your feels laid elsewhere as his own did. A friend from his youth, a male friend he loved and lost in war.

He declared he would never love again after loving so deeply. But pressure from his family had him scrambling to find a wife to keep his secret, but he hated the idea of someone loving him when he was unable to do it back.

And then you two got married and while you never told him in so many words about your feelings for Amy. He knew that you were also heartbroken and in need of protection and a friend.

So you married as friends and he became your best friend when you moved to Europe with him. You two had a happy life, one that was just as happy as people actually in love, because you both cared about each other and enjoyed each other company, when he died you were broken. You were happy with him as your companion and without him, you were alone again.

Well, you weren’t always alone. Laurie was someone that you didn’t think you would have run into in London one day but you did. He was studying in London after traveling around with his grandfather and you two find comfort in each other for a while.

“Laurie? What are you doing here?” You asked when you bumped into him with Simon. It was one of his good days and he wanted fresh air and you two decided on a stroll together. “Simon this is a dear friend of mine from when I was a girl, Theodore Laurence.”

“You are still a girl, darling,” Simon teased, patting your hand before turning to Laurie. “I believe we met during my brief time in the States, it is nice to see you again.”

Laurie looked between the two of you as if in a daze. But then something snapped him out of it and he shook Simon’s outstretched hand. “Oh yes we have met before, nice to see you as well.” And then he turned to you. “I am here for university. My grandfather sent me here.”

“Really? Why did something happen?” you asked concerned. When you moved you cut ties with everyone, not hearing from anyone for the last few years.

Laurie looked down sadly at your words. You reached out to him, moving to untangle yourself from Simon when he began coughing. He bent over as he had a fit and you quickly grabbed his upper arm.

Laurie jumped into action, grabbing his other side. “Is he alright?” He asked you.

“Yes, um can you help me get him home, it isn’t far from here,” you said, feeling Simon’s forehead and seeing he was burning up.

With a nod, you and both walked quickly towards your London home. Once inside you helped Simon into his bed, tucking him in. And getting a wet cloth to put on his forehead. You sat by his bed worriedly as he wheezed.

“I’ll wait outside,” Laurie said.

You nodded not taking your eyes off of your husband. You brushed his hair out of his face and patted his face with the cloth. “Simon you should not try to overdo it for my benefit.” You said.

“You are young. You should not have to take care of a dying husband. You should be going to shows, walking around London and exploring. You deserve it, my darling.”

“You are my husband. My best friend, I want to be here by your side,” you rebutted.

“I will feel bad if you spent your youth inside with me.”

You sighed, kissing his forehead. “Simon. I like being indoors. Reading, learning, and taking care of our home and you. I could not ask for more,” you assured him.

“That can’t be true. What about love?”

“I’ve loved and that time for my life is over.”

“You are too young to be cynical.”

“You were cynical too at my age,” you teased.

“Yes, and I was miserable until I met you. I don’t want that for you. You should have someone. Would you like a child?” He offered.

You kissed his forehead. “Simon, my best friend. I could not raise a child without you. I-I fear when you go and I don’t think having a babe to take care of will be helpful.”

“I hate that I will leave you alone.”

“You saved me from the loneliness I will be okay.”

He sighed deeply sending himself into another coughing fit. “You deserve more. You should have passion, desire, and love. What about Laurie?”

“What, Laurie?”

“Yes, he was a friend from before. He is young, unmarried, and beautiful. You could be with him… to cure the loneliness.”

“You are my husband, Simon. How could you suggest… that,” you said flushing. You and Simon had tried to consummate your marriage, but you both were too uncomfortable and decided against it.

“I am your husband in name only. I am your friend that wants good things for you. Just, don’t rule it out. Use the house and enjoy being a woman with power.” He didn’t say while it lasted but you both understood the words in the air.

“I will think about it. Now please get some rest. I’ll bring you something to eat later on,” you wiped his forehead one last time before getting up to leave.

Laurie stood against the wall across from the room. He looked up when you exit, standing up straight. “Is he alright?”

You nodded, your eyes downcast.

“What is the matter with him?” He asked gently.

You chuckled softly, but it broke into a sob. “The doctors have no idea, just that he is getting weaker each day and pretty soon he’ll be gone,” you said, covering your mouth to hold down your emotions.

You truly didn’t know what to do without Simon. The house would feel too empty, and you couldn’t return to America, you didn’t want to but you didn’t want to be alone. Laurie’s arms engulfed you and held you tightly.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he said against the shell of your ear. “I’m here,” He repeated over and over until you calm down.

You pulled away to look up at Laurie. He smiled softly at you, wiping your tears. “Theo, what happened? Why are you here?” You asked.

“I asked Jo to marry me and she rejected me,” he said, voice full of pain and sorrow.”

“Oh Theo, I am so sorry,” you said, grabbing his hand and kissing the back of it. You lead him away from Simon’s room into your own chambers and into your sitting area. “Maybe she needs time?” You suggested.

Laurie shook his head. “No, she doesn’t love me. And She never will. She didn’t see me as a potential partner, just Teddy her best friend,” He said bitterly.

You took his hand again, squeezing it sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Theo. You deserve better. It is Jo’s loss.”

He shrugged and quickly changed the subject. “Why do you have your own chambers? You two seem… so in love?”

“Simon is my best friend but there is no romantic love between us. Plus we enjoy our own space.” You said.

“Are you happy?” He asked.

“I am. I just am afraid of the happiness leaving when he dies,” you expressed.

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be here too. Like you once said to me, a shoulder to cry on. A friend to have around. I think we both could use one.”

You stared at Laurie for a while, thinking about your talk with Simon, your kiss when you were kids, and about how much you ached for passion in your life.

“Theo, we have been burned by love. We are both grieving losses, I think we should grieve together,” you suggested, looking at him from under your lashes.

Laurie swallowed thickly, his eyes dropped to your lips. “Sharing the burden of grieve would be beneficial, healthy even,” He said, moving closer to you.

“Yes my thought exactly,” you said, your breath mixed and your heart rate spiked.

His nose bumped against yours and you both giggled softly. “I’ve never done this before,” he whispered.

“Neither have I. we can just learn together,” you said and then your lips were brushing each other.

You are unsure which one of you deepened the kiss, but Laurie’s tongue was in your mouth and your eyes were fluttering shut. Laurie’s hands tentatively took your waist and he pulled back softly. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s okay. You can um, take off my clothes if you want.”

Laurie’s eyes widened at your suggestion but he quickly got to his feet, almost tripping over the sofa. His cheeks blazed as he giggled helping you stand as well. “Sorry, I am awfully nervous,” he confessed.

“I am too, but I trust you, Laurie,” you whispered.

“I trust you as well,” He replied.

You both smiled at each other for a moment, before Laurie cupped your cheek and placed another kiss on your lips. He took a deep breath when he pulled away and untied your shawl.

“Umm, what should I do with this?” He asked looking around.

“Toss it on the sofa, I don’t care.”

Nodding he tossed it quickly away, moving to unbutton your front-facing corset. Each button, he was painstakingly slow and you were just about to scream when he tossed it aside as well. Laces, knots, bows, and fabric were taken off your body until you stood in front of him in just your slip.

Laurie grabbed the bottom, but you stopped him. “Wait,” you said, your heart racing. Laurie froze, staring at you with big doe eyes.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No, Theo, just. I want to see you. It’s odd being the only one naked.”

“Of course of course,” he said, quickly removing his layers of coat, vest, and undershirt.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly he removed his own clothes. Laurie narrowed his eyes playfully at you. “Something amusing?”

“Yes. You Mr. Laurence.”

“Well I aim to entertain,” he bowed before moving to remove his pants, quickly causing your laughter to die down and your mouth to dry up.

Once undressed completely, Laurie grabbed your hips with purpose, rubbing his thumbs into your hip bones. You shivered and quickly grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom.

“Lay down,” he said, before climbing on top of you. His hands moved to the bottom of your slip and with a little nod from you he pulled it over your head. You laid bare before him and your hands moved to cover your breast, but he was already leaning down and pressing burning kisses to them.

“You are beautiful, you don’t have to hide from me. It’s Theo. Your Theo, your friend, relax,” he said, though his own voice shook. The words were probably meant for both of your benefits.

His lips traced the curve of your right breast before, his tongue circled your nipple. He watched you closely, gauging your reactions to see what you liked and didn’t like. Your eyes closed and you sucked in a sharp breath.

A pulse between your legs had you trying to close them, but Laurie was already between and your legs just squeezed his sides. He groaned switching to your own breast giving it the same treatment.

“I heard that it hurts for women the first time, I don’t wish to hurt you,” He said, pushing two fingers into his mouth soaking them before letting them drag down your body before reaching your most private parts.

“I know, it’s okay.”

“Tell me if something hurts too much.”

You nodded and then his two fingers were inside of you. You gasped which caused you to tighten around his fingers. The pressure was weird, but nothing was overly painful. “Go on,” you mumbled.

Laurie’s fingers moved slowly at first, just barely kissing your tight walls, but the more he worked them inside of you the wetter you became. The room was loud with the little gasp and moan you released and the wet sounds of his fingers inside of you.

You relaxed more, opening your legs wider as the awkward feeling gave way to pleasure. Your moans grew louder and you humped against his hand. Laurie pulled his fingers away and you whined.

“Eager?” He teased, wrapping one of your legs around his waist. The other, he slid the wet fingers from your inner thigh to your calf. You shivered again.

“Don’t tease me The- Heavens,” you closed your eyes as he pushed into you. You whimpered feeling tears in your eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Are you all the way in?”

Laurie frowned shaking his head. You were sweating and he pushed away the hair sticking to your forehead. “Just a bit more,”

“Is it normal to be so big?” You questioned.

He bit his lip to hide his smile, but his shoulder pulled back and you knew you just stroked his ego.

“Just push it all in and then give me a moment.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned.

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes waiting for the pain but instead, Laurie didn’t move and his lips were on yours again. Your eyes opened in confusion but you kissed him back eagerly. His soft lips mold into yours and you started to feel pleasure again.

With your distracted, Laurie slowly pushed inch by inch inside of you until he had bottomed out. You whined into his mouth, but Laurie stroked over your sides again and kissed all over your face.

“Let me know when it’s okay to move,” his voice was tight and strained, it was taking everything in him to be still and not hurt you.

You felt so incredibly full and you were completely surrounded by Laurie, his smell, and just him. Your heart hammered against your ribcage and you looked up at him, your eyes met and you smiled nodding.

And then he pulled back slowly and thrust back in quickly. Laurie moaned, your name falling from his lips. You moaned, arching against him.

“Theo, more.”

Your affair with Laurie lasted longer than you thought it would. It went from two friends grieving over lost loves to something more. Something that felt close to love and you couldn’t love Laurie.

No, you loved a friend before and it ruined your friendship. Plus Laurie loved Jo, she was who he thought of when you two were together. And even though it’s been years, your love for Amy still burned bright. And most importantly you were married.

Even if Simon had encouraged an affair, he was still very much alive, and sleeping with someone else was one thing, but falling in love was a different thing. It felt like a betrayal and you couldn’t handle it; So you had to break things off before you were too deep in.

“Theo,” you started one night as he held you close in his arms in your bed. Your head rested on his chest and his heartbeat was almost enough to put you to sleep, but you held on. “Have you answered any of Jo’s letters?”

He tensed at her name but only for a moment before relaxing and placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “No. I haven’t even read any.”

“Do you plan to?” You asked, looking up at him.

He sighed, moving until your faces were close together, his nose bumping against yours with every breath. “Why do you ask? Are you thinking about writing to Amy?”

“No. Amy does not want to hear from me.”

“I don’t believe that. You are her best friend. She was heartbroken when you left,” he said, rubbing his nose into your cheek, kissing your neck. “What did you two fight about anyways?”

He had asked you plenty of times but you never answered. You couldn’t tell him about her feelings, a fear you refused to acknowledge that maybe they were perfect for each other and he would seek her out and you’ll lose both of them.

“Girl things,” you replied.

He groaned, biting your jaw. “Why won’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” you breathed.

“Tell me, my love.”

You froze at the pet name and Laurie noticed. He quickly pulled back to stare at your face. Neither of you spoke as you stared. You two had been sleeping together for months. Currently naked and pressed up against each other, but the pet name was so softly spoken, so intimate. The intimacy slowly worked its way up your throat, choking you.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that slipped out. I-I. I’m sorry,” he said, moving to kiss you, but you moved away, sitting up.

“I think we should stop this,” you said.

Laurie sat up as well. “Stop this? Stop what?”

“This Theo. Us sleeping together. It is not doing either of us any good. Using each other to get over the March sisters, it’s wrong. And unhealthy.”

“How is it wrong, we are both adults, consenting and we are friends helping each other out.”

“I am married, Laurie.”

“You were married when we started. You were fine with it then, what has changed?” He asked, reaching for you, but you got out of bed and pulled on your nightgown.

“I just can’t anymore it isn’t helping anyone. You love Jo and I love Amy.”

“I don’t love Jo,” he stated.

You turned to him blinking. “Since when?”

“I don’t think I have ever loved Jo. Or maybe never in love with her.”

You scoffed. “You loved her only months ago. You have already tossed that love aside.” This is why you didn’t want to love him. He was always fickle.

“Jo was someone I was close to. Someone that I latched into when I had no one. I wanted love and the idea of loving Jo was perfect. So I told myself I loved her and now I know it was not true romantic love I had for her.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You had to look away from him. “You come too often, people might talk and I can’t do that to Simon.”

“I’ll come less. Or come in through the back.”

“No, Theo. We are spending too much time together. You should be focusing on school and your music. You said you were struggling with operas. You should work on that.”

“Why are you pushing me away? Have I done something?” His ask was pitiful and depressing and you hated yourself a little bit for it.

“We have been in a web in my room and it is time to move on. You must prepare for graduation and life and I need to take care of my husband. Not abandon him for an affair with some man.”

“Some man? Is that all I am to you?”

You turned to face him then. “I meant no offense, Laurie. I just think our fun should end before things get too deep and we ruin things between us.”

Laurie was silent for a bit. He stared at you long and hard. You grew uncomfortable, wrapping your arms around your chest and looking away from him. He sighed heavily. “Very well. Take care,” he dressed quickly with you watching him.

He laced his boots and stood in front of you. “I mean it, take care of yourself.”

You nodded, too overtaken by emotions to speak.

He stood another minute in front of you before exiting your room.

Your vision blurred just thinking about that day. Laurie never replied to any of your letters, never return to your house, and the gift you sent for his graduation, he returned it. You blinked away the tears, clearing your throat.

Simon died only a few weeks later and you were too busy to think about Laurie and all your confusing feelings. It was one thing to love Amy, another to love Laurie, but to love both?

You thought of your mother’s harsh words and maybe she was right, there was something wrong with you. Something broken that you loved so easily and at the same time.

Being home made you think about it too much and while you were still free from your mother, in Europe, you couldn’t stay home and be sad and wallow. Simon would not want that and you didn’t want it. So you traveled and that brought you to Paris.

The people were vibrant and friendly and the food was to die for. You felt like a child again with all the wonder you had. You loved it and you wanted to stay the whole season.

Humming a song you missed the first time someone said your name, but as they grew closer and louder you looked up to see Aunt March, Amy, and Laurie. Your eyes connected with Laurie’s first but he quickly looked away and Amy smiled softly but refused to hold your eyes either.

With just left Aunt March. She narrowed her eyes at you. “What’s the matter, girl? Move to Europe and forgot your manners?” Aunt March questioned.

Flushing, you stood up and smiled as warmly as possible at them. “Hello there. Forgive me, Aunt March. It is lovely to see you.” You turned to Amy and Laurie. “Hello.”

Laurie moved first pulling you into an awkward half-hug. His breath was strong with alcohol and you coughed slightly. “It is nice to see you again, Theo,” you said. The words sound painful to your own ears.

“Is it?” He questioned. “ If you all would excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” And then Laurie walked off.

You stared after him in shock. You knew you two had left things awkward and tense, but you didn’t expect the coldness from him. Laurie was never harsh, with anyone, especially not you.

A hand on your elbow had you turning to face Amy. Your breath caught slightly as you took her in. It’s been years since you last saw her and she was more breathtaking than ever.

“You will have to ignore Laurie, he is going through a phase of being an overgrown child,” she said, but she smiled softly at you. “Hello, stranger,” she said.

“Hello, Amy,” you said, a bit breathlessly. You felt foolish you had grown, married, and fallen for someone else, yet Amy still made you feel warm inside.

You two stared at each other for a moment before Aunt March groaned. “Speak you two,” She said, shaking her head and walking away mumbling about how annoying children were these days.

You both laughed as you watched her walk away. “She never changed, does she?” You said looking at Amy.

“No, I’m afraid she has only gotten meaner with age.”

You both laughed once more. Until you both slowly broke off and stared at one another until Amy spoke up.

“I’m sorry about our fight. And then ignoring you, but how could you just marry and leave?” She said, pouting.

You hugged her then, squeezing her tightly. “I’m sorry about our fight, I was so rude to you. And I’m sorry for leaving.”

“And not writing or inviting me to the wedding,” she added, hugging you back.

“Yes for not writing or inviting you to the wedding,” you chuckled, breathing in the scent you loved most.

“All is forgiven, sweet girl, but you can’t do that anymore. I’ve been miserable without you,” Amy said, taking your hand and squeezing it.

You squeezed her hand back. “I’ve been miserable without my best friend as well.”

“Now that we have made up, tell me about your husband. Has he been kind to you? Do you have children? Oh my gosh, you do don’t you? You have children and they don’t even know me,” she whined, but there was also something else in her voice you couldn’t decipher.

“Amy, take a breath,” you teased, grabbing your book as you two walked around the park. “My husband, Simon.. he was a very good man, but he sadly passed on.”

She gasped, turning to face you with a face painted in sorrow. “I am so sorry to hear that. You are still so young to lose a husband. He wasn’t that old.”

“It was a sickness that took him quickly. Healthy one day and coughing up blood the next. I was happy to try to make his last days the best for him. He grew to be my closest friend.”

“I am glad you were not in a bad marriage, but I am sorry about you having to lose him.” Amy pulled you into a side hug.

You hugged back. “And we didn’t have children. With Simon getting sick it was best that way. I could not imagine raising them alone.”

“I suppose that is the best solution. Did you love him?” She asked.

“Yes. In a way that made us both happy.”

She furrowed her eyes at your comment but didn’t press. “So tell me what brought you here?”

“I came for the art, the culture, the people,” you smiled. “Why did you come?”

“For you,” she said, glancing shyly over at you. “You learned French when you were younger and you always talked about coming here and when Aunt March asked me to tour Europe with her, I knew I had to come here. See all the things we talked about.”

Your heart squeezed at her words and you smiled softly at her words. You wished for nothing more than to kiss her but you were in public. Amy's eyes bore into your own and the same desire filled her eyes. But you reminded yourself of her words, that the kisses meant nothing. They were just practiced.

“I’ve missed you so much, Amy,” you said.

“I’ve missed you as well. With you gone, I felt a part of me was missing. I was an awful friend. Too vain sometimes for my own good. I won’t excuse my actions, but if you give me the chance, I want to make it up to you. Be a better friend.”

“I would very much like to be your friend again.”

“Good. Now there is a ball tonight. I would love for you to attend with me. It will be fun, with drinks, dancing, and music. It will be wonderful. Say you will come?”

“I will be there, Amy. I promise.”

The ball was…well it was a ball fit for the French elite and while you have been a part of the elites before you never felt completely comfortable around them. Your dress was bright and made you stand out too much and you wished to hide in a corner.

You felt like a child once again force at a party by your mother. You searched the crowd for Amy and sighed and relief when you saw her. Luckily, she saw you at the same moment and made her way over to you.

“Oh, you look beautiful. Well, you always look beautiful but this is your color,” she gushed, having your ears and face burn at the compliments.

“Thank you, Amy. You look radiant as well. The center of the party,” you said, then leaned closer. “Everyone has eyes on you.”

She blushed. “Well, that is Fred’s doing.”

“Fred?”

“Fred Vaugh. We met him at the beach once, an old friend of the Laurence’s. We are in a courtship,” she explained.

Your face fell slightly at her words, but what did you expect? For her to love you to wait for you when you left and married. “That’s wonderful, Amy,” you said.

Amy looked around the room for a moment before grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the party. You both walked into you were outside in a beautiful garden. “Everyone might have their eyes on me, but mine are on you,” she said.

“Fred is a nice man but I want to be with you tonight, check-up, talk to my sweet girl,” she pulled you to the ground into a space covered by bushes so no one would see you too.

“What about the ball? And your dress, it will be ruined.”

“First, Laurie drunkenly showing up ruined the ball for me and second, you are much more important and worth a ruined dress.”

“What is going on with Laurie?” In London, he was saddened by the rejection of Jo, but he wasn’t drinking and behaving as Amy mentioned.

“It has to be the heartbreak. He’s just a mess. We had seen a lot of each other in Paris and he was getting better, I thought at least, but then he went to London and his letters seemed as if he was better and happier. And then he came back like this. Drunk all the time, making stupid comments.” She mumbled the last part as she patted down her dress.

You smiled, knocking your shoulder against hers. “Tell me about your art, Amy. Tell me about the new Amy?”

You and Amy spent the whole night pressed up together and catching up with each other. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you. While you had married and grown, Amy had matured into a woman with a kind heart, determination, and passion.

It was amazing to see how much she changed and you could listen to hear her talk all day along. She leaned against you laughing at a story you told about your wedding day with Simon.

“I cannot see you doing that?” She said between gasping breaths.

“I did. I did. I was not going to wear so awful dress all day and if they refused to let me change I would make them. So I set the dress on fire, while still wearing it.”

“Oh, you have lost your mind. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. That is something that would make Jo very happy.”

You laugh along with her. “How is Jo?” You asked.

Her laughter died down a bit and she shrugged. “She is the same Jo I suppose. She is upset with me for coming here, upset with Laurie for ignoring her, and the world for treating her horribly for being born a woman.”

“Laurie will come around. And we can’t fault her for the last. We know the drawback we have to face for being women.”

“We all know it, but complaining and making things worse is not the way to go about it. We must find ways to be ourselves. To enjoy life within the binds. Wiggle and loosen them slowly. Any other way does more harm than good.”

“Wise-words. You really have grown, Amy March.”

“I have. I know I seem proper and happy with my station in society but I know that it is a man’s world and nothing will ever be mine. My life is not my own and never will be, it’s frustrating but if I want to take care of my family, I must play the part.”

You grabbed her hand. “And if you didn’t- if you didn’t have to play a part what would you do? What is your dream?”

Amy looked at you. “I would like to be happy be with someone that I love who loves me. I want to paint be a true artist and make my own money. I want so much, I want that dream we had as children. I want-” You cut her off by kissing her.

You thought she would pull away, but instead, she placed her hand on the side of your face and kissed you back, deeply and full of emotions. You kissed until you needed to break away to breathe air in your lungs.

“I-I’m sorry, Amy. I don’t know what came over me,” you said, looking down. You fan your cheeks as they burned and you looked around making sure no one was looking.

Amy grabbed your hand, shaking her head. “No, please don’t apologize. I wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you, maybe since the day we fought. I am sorry for the words I spoke. I.. kissing you was never practice. Or maybe it started as such, but it was a comfort.”

She paused moving so she sat in front of you. She took both of your hands and placed them in your lap. Your heart fought to leave your chest and your whole body felt as if it was being pricked.

“You were my best friend. You are my best friend and I like being with you. I love spending time with you, laughing, reading, and kissing you. I didn’t understand what it meant. What you were to me,” she looked down at her hands. “But then realized that I missed you like Marmee misses father.”

You bit your lips, holding your breath as you waited for her to finish talking, but instead, she bit her lip and began to cry softly. With furrowed brows, you moved closer hugging her to your chest. “What’s wrong, Amy? Don’t cry, please. You know it will make me cry too,” you said.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it, it’s just. I love you and it is unfair that we can not be together. It is unfair that we can’t do anything about it. We are women and I have duties to uphold and I’ll never be happy.” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking and her breathing grew erratically.

“Amy, you must calm down. You know you get worked up so easily, you could pass out, calm, Amy. Calm, I’m here. I have you,” you patted the back of her head and held her close until she slowly stop crying.

“Are you alright now?” You asked pulling back to regard her face.

She frowned adorably nodding, wiping her eyes as embarrassment settled in. “Yes, I am sorry for losing it like that. And springing feels onto you. It was wrong of me.”

You smiled, cupping her face and brushing away the rest of your tears. “Don’t be sorry for having emotions or expressing them. I will never fault you for it,” you said, kissing her softly.

She kissed you back, breaking away after a few moments. “I should not have expressed my feelings because if you return them, there is nothing we can do about it, and if not, I could make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh Amy March, I have loved you my whole life,” you giggled, pecking her lips.

“Don’t say that. I will only make me sadder.”

“But we love each other, is that not good news.”

“If one of us is a man, but I must marry Fred,” she said miserably.

“But why? I have my own money we can live together, happily.”

“Because marrying Fred is what is expected of me, and must do it for my family. I am sorry.”

You shook your head, squeezing her hand. “I am not upset with you. I understand doing what you have to do for your family.”

“Can we still spend time together like now, until I marry?” She asked.

“We can spend all the time you would like, Amy,” You assured her.

You went to your lodging that night with only thoughts of Amy and how you must be dreaming. She loved you. Amy loved you back. You knew the sneaking around was not ideal, and that you wanted more with her, but you would take whatever you could get.

But your mind thought about the women you read about as a child. The women who lived together and were happy, but family meant something to Amy. Her family was her life and you didn’t have it in you to take her away from them.

Just as you were about to slip into unconsciousness another thought came to mind. Another person, Laurie. You didn’t see him the whole party, you were sure he was avoiding you which hurt. You were worried about your feelings for him and your feelings for Amy. You fell asleep with guilt heavy on your mind, for loving them both.

Over the next few weeks, you spend as much time with Amy as you could. You two were either in the park, her drawing and you reading, or walking around giggling close together. The only time you spent away from her was the time she spent with Laurie.

The guilt of loving them both only was overshadowed by the jealousy of knowing they were together without you. You wanted to be with Laurie, talking like you used to, or spend all the time with Laurie. You were growing sick of the headaches you were causing yourself, but it came to a head when you overheard Amy and Laurie together.

“Do you love him?” Laurie asked her softly.

“Love him? Do you mean Fred?” She asked.

“Is there another man in your life that you love?” He asked.

Amy’s eyes flickered to his at his words. She loved Laurie. She didn’t want to, she tried her whole life not to, but she did. She loved him as easily as she loved you. “I don’t love Fred,” she concluded.

“Then don’t marry him.”

“Oh, Laurie why shouldn’t I marry him? He is kind and he has enough money to take care of me, my family, and my future family.”

“But you do not love him.”

“We already had this conversation, Laurie.”

“No. I mean he does not love you either. So you should marry me,” he said.

“Marry- marry you? Laurie, why would you say that wh-why?” Amy closed her notebook and stood up shaking her head.

“Please Amy, I’ll treat you better than him. I can take care of you and your family. I can make you happy.”

“Laurie stop it. Just stop it. You are hurting and raw because of Jo, but that does not give you the right to be mean to me.”

“Mean? I am not being mean. I am serious, Amy. I want you to marry me. We can be happy together,” He moved closer, taking her arms. “We have spent so much time together in the last few months and I think I could make you happy. I want to try,”

“Try? No no. Laurie, how dare you? After I spent my whole life loving you. I’ve been second to Jo in everything and now I am to be second to her with you? No, I refuse. I won’t settle for second place.”

“So you rather marry someone you don’t love?”

“Yes, I rather be respected if I can’t be loved.”

“You can have both with me,” he shrugged.

“I can’t. And I don’t want to see you anymore.” And then she was running out of the studio. She bumped into you with tears running down her face.

“Oh, d-d-did you hear?” She said, face flushed and hands twitching.

“I did. Amy, what’s wrong? Why did Laurie’s words upset you so much,” you said softly, already knowing the answer. She all but said she still loved him.

She wiped her eyes. “It is not what you think?” She said at once.

“It would be okay if it was,” you said.

She shook her head. “No. No, it won’t be. No. I don’t love Laurie, not after everything,” she said.

“Shush, my dove. Let me walk you home,” you said taking her arm.

She nodded, looping her arm through yours.

The walk was quiet, with Amy sniffling every few moments. You were too in your own head to really think about making conversation. The idea of Amy and Laurie marrying was heavy on your mind. They would be a perfect couple and Amy deserve love, but not from Laurie, not if he was using her to get over Jo.

When it was with you, you didn’t fault him. You both agreed to enjoy each other, it was mutual and your falling for him was not his fault, but Amy, she did care about him, she loved him and deserved more than a husband that loved her sister.

After walking Amy home you sent a letter to where Laurie was staying demanding his presence. You were steaming as you waited for him. Your leg bounced with anger as you sat trying to read your novel, but all you could think about what that selfish man.

The moment you heard a knock on the door you were out of your seat. You throw the door open and pulled Laurie into the room. You stood across from him with one hand on your hip glaring at him.

“You’ve invited me here to glare at me?” He asked confused.

“What are you doing with Amy?” You said at the same time.

Laurie’s eyes widened slightly and he moved deeper into the room. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Asking her to marry you? Are you trying to hurt her? Ruin her life?”

“What? No of course not. I was just trying to help her. I-I grew deep feelings for her,” he said. He looked towards the ground, only glancing up at you to see your reaction. While Laurie was not lying about his feelings for Amy, he loved you all the same.

It was spending time together in London that made him realize that he felt only friendship and familial love for Jo. The feelings he got for you were deeper and stronger than anything he ever thought was possible. He loved you with his soul. And he wanted to express his feeling to you, wanted to ask you to marry him when Simon died, but you broke things off and broke his heart first.

“So you have just grown feelings for Amy?” You questioned.

“Of course. I didn’t plan to but I have. I want to make her happy.”

“Fred can do that.”

“Fred can’t offer her happiness. And if I marry her you can still be in her life. You two can still care for each other.”

You blinked at him in shock. “You know about us?”

“I’ve always known. Have you forgotten? Amy might not have known when we were children about her feelings for you, but I saw them.”

“But you didn’t see hers for you?” You scoffed.

“No, I just assumed she only had eyes for you.”

You scoffed again, but then again you never saw her feelings for you, only her eyes for Laurie. “So you’ve known about our feelings for each other and still tried to marry her.”

“I am not trying to take her away from you. What do you think I am trying to do.”

“I don’t know. I can’t see you falling in love with Amy when you have been a drunk mess in her words.”

“I’ve gotten better. I’ve spent time with her and I see her for the wonderful person she is. I want more for her and with her.”

“Ah, so it seems you are just working your way through us all Theodore. Shall I write to Brooke’s and warn him that his wife is in danger or sweet Beth.”

“Don’t. You know it isn’t like that.”

“I obviously know nothing about who you are.”

“How could you say that? You know me, better than most.”

“No, I don’t. I know nothing about you and your fickle feelings.”

“You know I didn’t love Jo. I thought I did I thought what I felt for her was love true deep love but it wasn’t. But you-“ he paused and moved closer to you but you took a step away from him.

He threw his hands up. “I love you. Whether you let me say it or not. I love you. Deeper than I loved anyone in my life entire life.”

You scoffed, “And Amy? Is she just a toy for you to use? Someone to run to when you can’t have who you want.”

“I love her too. As I love you; with my whole being.” Laurie walked towards you this time and didn’t stop as you took steps back. “I love you as you, Amy as Amy, and both of you with every fiber of my soul.”

“Always a poet, Mr. Laurence,” you scoffed. You didn’t want to hear this.

“I love you both. Worship the grounds you walk on.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart. “You know I am telling the truth.”

You looked away from him, feeling your heart quicken and your face heat. “And why is that?” You whispered.

He cupped your cheek making you turn back to face him. He smiled softly leaning closer until your nose bumped. “Because I know you feel the same for us as well. I know you love Amy It’s why you ran away to get married because you love her and…and it’s why you sent me away in London, because you love me.”

“Theo. So you’ve just decided that I love you,” you said softly.

“I wasn’t sure. I was hurt after you ended things, it wrecked me. Amy was not lying when she told you how bad I’ve been, but it wasn’t Jo that broke my heart, it was you. And I’ve avoided you since you arrived here. It was wrong and I felt awful as I started to fall for Amy, but the moment I walked into the room. I realized you are not just upset for Amy but because of her.”

You scoffed again, but you couldn’t deny his words when he was telling the truth to your face.

“You don’t believe I love Amy and you didn’t believe that I could love you, but I do. love you. I love Amy. And I want us all to be happy and together, is that too much to asked?”

“It is asking the impossible and you know it. That is not the world we live in.”

“Screw the world we make our own rules we have the money to go anywhere and be who we wish to be. All you have to do is let yourself have what you want.”

“I can not.”

“Why? Why can’t you? You have never been one to be so afraid unless you don’t love me. Have I gotten that wrong?”

You said nothing.

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave and never bring this up again. Tell me your heart does not beat for me and I’ll leave you alone,” Laurie begged, his hands reaching on either side of your face, staring deeply into your eyes.

You feel tears run down your face. “Of course, I love you, Laurie. Goodness, I love you so much. I had to send you away. Every day I was falling more and more in love with you. Every night in your arms I wished for that to be our life forever.”

Laurie smiled widely, his eyes lighting up, shining with pure happiness. He kissed you so softly and sweetly that you felt light-headed. You kiss back in earnest, putting your hands on top of his that still resided on your face.

“W-What is going on in here?” A broken voice said causing you both to pull apart in shock to see Amy standing in the now-open doorway.

“Amy,” you gasped, dropping your hands from Laurie’s face.

“Amy it is not what it appears to be,” Laurie said and you could have slapped him in the face. Of course, it was what it appeared to be but he was not helping.

It seemed Amy shared your sentiment because she scoffed narrowing her eyes at you both. “Not what it looks like? You two were kissing and I heard you expressing your love to each other.”

“Amy please, let us explain,” you pleaded.

“Explain what? How the two people that claim they never want to hurt me, who want to see me happy are doing the exact thing they swear they wouldn’t,”

“Amy it is not like that,” Laurie said, moving closer to her. “I meant what I said earlier, I do care about you. I love you and wish to marry you.”

She shook her head and looked away from him to look at you. “And you? How could you do this to me? And with Laurie of all people.”

“Amy no, please. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t, goodness, just let us explain.”

“Explain then.” Amy crossed her arms and stared at you both.

You glanced at Laurie, but he looked incredibly frightened to say anything. You sighed, “I had an affair with Laurie in London,” You started shutting your eyes as Amy gasped in horror.

“It wasn’t a bad one,” Laurie chimed in, “She was lonely and I was and we needed comforting.

“Your poor husband,” Amy said shaking her head.

“He knew about it. It was his idea. He just wanted me to be happy to experience life. I was hurting from losing you and about to lose another best friend and Laurie was there. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, it just happened. So I broke things off when my feelings grew too down.”

“And That is when Laurie came back to Paris, depressed. Because he loved you and you hurt him.” Amy then laughed bitterly turning to glare sadly at Laurie. “So for you, I am a third option. Can’t have Jo, can’t have her, so you’ll settle for me?”

“No no. Amy that isn’t true. I never loved Jo. It is the two of you I love so much. I was hurt by her ending things and I came back because you are my friend and you always know how to cheer me up and then I realized I was falling for you as well.”

“You love us both? That is preposterous. You can not love us both.”

“Oh come on Amy, stop lying to yourself. You lied to me early, you love Theo. You always have.”

Her eyes stretched and she stuttered but nothing comprehensible came out. She stared between the two of you before looking away. “I am leaving,” she stated.

“No. You can’t leave, Amy please,’ Laurie said, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

She flinched away glaring at him. “No, you don’t get to tell me. Neither of you do. I can not do this with you, Either of you. I am marrying Fred, I won’t be involved with whatever you two are doing.”

“So you choose him? Why? You love me. You love Laurie. You said you wanted a way for us to be together in this society and to take care of your family. Laurie is the solution. You can marry him and not Fred. It will be perfect.”

“It will be a sham. I won’t have an affair with you while married. I told you that.”

“It won’t be an affair, we would be married, yes, but we will all be in a relationship. The marriage is one of love, but also one of show, so we can be ourselves and not be condemned.” Laurie stressed.

“No. You both lied to me and now you want me to marry you and we are to live happily ever after?” She cried.

“Lied to you? I never lied to you, Amy,” you stated.

“You knew why Laurie was acting strange. You never mentioned your relationship with him, Not ever after what you overheard today. And you Laurie, let me go on and on about Jo knowing it was not Jo who had broken your heart. I thought it was odd you both were avoiding each other, I thought it was to due that kiss as children but I see it was more. I feel like such a fool. You both toyed with me. Is that it? You both couldn’t have each other so went after me?”

“Of course, not, Amy. We would never?” Laurie said.

“We are sorry, Amy. We meant you no harm. We talked about all of us being together,” you added.

“Without me? Because Amy will get go along. Amy is a follower. Amy is desperate for the both of you she’ll do anything.”

“Stop putting words in our mouths. Amy, I understand you are hurt. I shouldn’t have kissed Laurie with our relationship going, I am truly sorry, but please don’t marry Fred when this is the perfect option, where we all can be happy.”

“I don’t want it. This life you two are offering. Not after hurting me. I am going to marry Fred and I wish to never see either of you again.”

You gasped and Laurie looked close to tears. “Amy you can’t mean that. You’ll just throw away our plans, our love, and friendship,” you questioned.

“You did the moment you decide to keep things from me.”

“You are behaving like a child.”

“No, I am being a responsible adult unlike the two of you,” she said walking to the door.

“Amy please don’t walk away from us. We love you, we can be happy. We can travel, get a house and live happily,” Laurie begged.

“No thank you. You two should live happily together. It is what you both deserved,” she spat.

“Fine. Go marry Fred, enjoy your life of being respected and playing by society’s rule,” You said.

“I will.”

“If you won’t marry me, then we’ll marry. Move to Italy and have a life together,” Laurie said taking your hand.

Amy glanced at you both and then at your joint hands. Rivers of tears ran down her pretty cheeks, breaking both your and Laurie’s heart. “Then so be it,” she whispered then left the room.

Amy could barely see as she ran as fast as she could back to the home she was staying in with Aunt March. She always knew she couldn’t have Laurie and one day she would have to give you up and possibly watch you fall in love with someone else, but the idea of you both already loving each other tore her in half.

She was scared and hurt and she couldn’t fathom the offer, which she knew was a good one, but her pain was too raw for her to see that. She ran to her room and threw herself into her bed sobbing her heart out.

Her tears ran down her face for hours until she was too numb to sob and her tears all cried out. She thought about just days earlier when she was happy when she was wrapped up in her love and fantasy future.

“I have never had any sort of, you know before,” Amy flushed bright red. You both were inside your bedroom. You two kissed for hours and when your hands wandered to her waist causing her to flush and pull away.

“Oh, Amy we do not have to do any of that, I just like being with you,” you said, leaning closer to capturing her lips.

She kissed back before pulling away. “Does it work the same way as with a man?” She asked curiously.

“I wouldn’t know. I have never been with another woman. You are the only woman I’ve ever had eyes for,” you chuckled. “I think it would be different considering... Um, the differences.”

“I am not sure I know how it works with men. Meg tried to explain it once, but it freaked me out,” she said embarrassed.

“It freaked me out as well. My mother made me read a book about it, said it was to prepare me for my wedding night,” you explained.

“Was it painful? With Simon?” She asked.

“My first time was not as painful as I thought. I enjoyed it,” you said. Laurie was incredibly gentle and you were forever grateful for it.

“I do not want my first sexual experience to be with Fred. Can we try something, I want it to be with someone I love.”

You nodded. “We can learn and explore together,” you said, getting off the bed to remove your clothes, you could hear Amy doing the same. By the time you were done, you turned around to see Amy with her hair down, covering her chest.

You grinned getting back into bed and crawling to be in front of her. “Don’t cover up, you are beautiful,” you said, kissing her forehead.

“Don’t make me blush,” she whined.

“I like seeing you blush,” you said, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the bed with you. You laid her down and hovered over her. “I love you, Amy,”

“ I love you, sweet girl,” she said, kissing you again. The kiss quickly grew hungrier and hungrier and you bit her lower lip causing her to moan and arch against you. Causing her core to rub against yours.

You both moan and quickly fell into a rhythm of upward and downward grinds to chase after that feeling. Your kiss grew sloppy as you both moaned and got lost in the pleasure.

“Something happening, it’s building, what is it?” she asked.

“It’s okay, it will feel good,” you said. You quickly moved one of your hands between you both, rubbing the little button you knew would make her see stars. Amy gasped, her hips moving quicker.

“Yes, please that feels amazing. Don’t stop sweet girl don’t stop,” she begged.

“Never,” you said, attaching your lips to one of her nipples.

When Amy came it was with a loud moan of your name and her thighs squeezing together. Her eyes rolled back in her hand and her nose wrinkled in the most Amy way possible.

You moaned grinding faster against her spamming body until you reached your own peak, your lips coming down on hers. “I love you, Amy, so much. Always.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl.”

You moved to lay by her side, pulling her close. Your chin rested on her shoulder and your hands were around her waist. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“I wish there was a way we could be together, A way for everything to work out for us. I want us,” she whispered.

You dropped a kiss to her shoulder, tightening your hold around her. “Maybe one day.”

“I hope sooner rather than later. I want to be with you forever.”

You hummed softly, “Like we said when we were younger. When we said we would run away together?”

She giggled turning around in your arms. “Yes, like that. We can go anywhere in the world. Be like those women you once told me about.”

“I would like that very much.”

“Me too.”

“You rejected Fred? Amy, I thought you were the smart one of your sisters,” Aunt March huffed the moment Amy walked into the room. It was only days after her fight with the two of you. The ache she felt without you both was hard to ignore. She’s always had one of you in her life and it was strange to know you both were gone. That she forced you out of her life.

“He has money, a good head on his shoulder and you reject him,” Aunt March continued to rant. “It makes no sense. Have you fallen ill with something or are you just stupid?”

Amy ignored her as she took a seat on the sofa. She started down at her hands. Her bare hands. Fred’s ring was beautiful. The life he was offering was beautiful, perfect, and everything she always hoped for. At least that is what she thought she wanted.

He was nice enough. He would be a good husband, a good provider, and a father. He would grow to love her because, as much as he claimed he did, he did not love her. And she could even grow to love him, but it wouldn��t be the sort of love Meg had with John, her parents had with each other. The love you and Laurie had for each other, had for her.

“Honestly, Amy. You were supposed to help your sisters out. Take care of them, they need the money. Instead, you ruin a good thing, and for what reason, hmm?”

“Aunt March,” Amy said cutting her off, “Why did you never marry?”

Aunt March stuck up her nose and turned her head away from her slightly. “I didn’t have to. I had money. I didn’t waste it away like some people.”

Amy took a deep breath to ignore the obvious comment about her family. “Yes but did you never want to marry? Meet someone you wanted to be with? You’ve never been in love.”

“Amy tell me you are not burdened with love?” She said as if she was speaking about a terminal illness.

“Have you, Aunt March?” Amy asked desperately.

Aunt March looked at Amy. Really looked at her and saw what she knew will be there. A sad young woman in love. A look she once saw in a mirror. She sighed deeply, before turning to Amy completely.

“Josephine might have been named after me, but you are the most like me, Amy,” she said softer than Amy had ever heard her speak. Her face was one of sadness and regret, sorrow and pain.

“I loved once. Someone, so deeply I feel them in my bones. I knew them by smell alone. Their foot pattern and their breathing. I was young when we met and it was like love at first sight as dramatic as the term is, it applied.”

“What happened why didn’t you marry?” Amy asked, leaning forward and hanging onto her every word.

“Because I am like you, Amy,” she said.

“Like me?”

“Times were harsher than now. You can live in Europe with a close friend and not get so many looks. Women are choosing to not marry and single women together don’t raise too many looks. And the Laurance boy would protect you both.”

Amy’s eyes widened slightly at both Aunt March’s confession and her knowing about her feelings for both Laurie and you.

“Oh don’t give me that look, Amy March. It is obvious by the way you three of you are together. She has been in love with you forever, and you with Laurie, and now the three of you are whatever you are. I thought you would never act on it. That you would marry Fred and have that life. This choice you are making Amy does not come easy. While it is more of a norm here, it doesn’t mean it is not without issues.”

“But I love them and I don’t care. I want to be happy. I want happiness and them. Money and pretty things, being content and taking care of the family, it’s nothing if I can’t have them,” Amy sobbed, “But I ruined things. They hurt me and I hurt them, and it’s awful and messy, but it is what I want. I want to fight with them, make up with them, cry, and love with them.”

“And what about your family? Your sisters?”

“It is not my job to take care of them. I know I am being selfish, but I get to be selfish with my life do I not? I must live for myself and be happy. I love my sisters and I will try to help and support them. I will get a job teaching or selling my work.”

“Hmm.”

“What. Say something.”

“Both of them are quite well off.”

“I am not going to be with them for their money.”

“No no, but their money is a plus,” Aunt March, grasped both of Amy’s hands. “I will help your sisters, you should go. Be the strong Amy that you’ve grown into, and the whimsical, romantic Amy you have always been. The Brave March, I was not.”

Amy reached over and threw her arms around Aunt March’s shoulder. “Oh Aunt March, who knew you were such a softie,” Amy said kissing her cheeks, laughing as Aunt March groaned and tried to pull away.

“Yes yes, just keep it to yourself,” she said, patting her cheek. “Now, you have two people to go see.”

Amy pulled away grinning widely. “Yes, I do.”

You walked hand and hand with Laurie down the street in Italy. Neither of you happy to be in the city you two talked about so long ago. The pain of losing Amy, really losing her weighed you both down.

“This is my fault,” Laurie said softly.

You looked over at him in shock. “Theo, it is not your fault. It is both of our fault. We should have told Amy the truth or maybe not been so harsh with her, she is a sensitive woman.”

“I was the mean one. Asking her to marry me like that. And then roping you into it.

“And I am a woman with my own agency. You didn’t force me, Theo. I was harsh as well. I was the one that was with her and then kissed you. She should hate me forever for it.”

Laurie looked down and squeezed your hand. “I am glad that we are together.”

You smiled, squeezing his back. “Me too. I am very happy right now. It’s not something I’ve truly been in a long time.”

“I was only this happy in London,” he confessed. “I brought a ring then. One to ask you to marry me.”

“What? Theo no? Oh, I am so very sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No. don’t be sorry. I suppose it was for the best. I got to fall in love with Amy and be close to her. And you got to know her feelings. You got to experience being in love with her and her loving you back.”

“Hey, she loved you as well.”

“But I was too stupid to see it,” he sighed.

“And I was too stupid in London to see you loved me.”

“We both are pale with this sickness then,” he said happily and swinging your hands back and forward.

You giggled, “I suppose we are. Someone should write a song about it,” you teased.

“My music is no good.”

“Oh lies, I saw the notebook back in the desk at home, you are talented. You just need to believe in yourself.”

“You saw that?” He asked, flushing.

“Yes, a few pieces about a pretty blonde in blue. Another is about the love of London. I am awfully curious about what those ones are about.”

Laurie, grabbed your waist, tickling you. “You little monster,” he chuckled as he watched you squirm. You giggled loudly trying to get away. People walking past you both stared some laughing along, others in distaste, but neither of you cared.

When Laurie stopped his attack he retook your hand. “Let’s go home?”

You nodded. While you two didn’t discuss marrying each other you both did want to spend time in Italy and Laurie’s former home was beautiful and you knew how much it meant to him to be back.

Walking into the house you smiled warmly at Laurie, kissing him sweetly. “Shall I make us something for dinner or should we go back out later”

Laurie shrugged, “I don’t know. I might want to keep you in my bed all night long.”

“Oh Mr. Laurence, you deviant,” you chuckled, pushing his hands away as there was a knock on the door.

“Whoever it is get rid of them, you are mine,” he said, rounding the corner and giving you a wink.

You rolled your eyes at his playfulness and opened the door, only to be completely shocked about who was standing on the other side. “Amy? What are you doing here?”

Seeing Amy on your door steps was the last thing you thought you see. Yet there she stood, her hair down and her eyes wide, and her hands wringing in front of her. Her eyes darted all over your face and behind you before dropping to her hands.

Laurie moved into the foyer after hearing your words. He stood behind you, his hands resting on either side of your hips, tapping his pointer finger on your bone, a nervous habit you noticed.

Amy looked from you to Laurie then her eyes dropped to his hands on your waist. Her lips turned down in her perfect pout. “I had to tell you guys, something.”

“What is it?” Laurie asked.

She closed her eyes for a moment, balling her hands into fists before taking a deep breath and opening her eyes. “I was wrong about the poets,” she said.

“What?” you were confused and slightly worried that maybe Amy had lost her marbles, when Laurie pressed closer to you, forcing you both closer. “You’ve changed your mind?” He said softly, a bit of hope in his tone.

“Yes. I still believe that we have some power over who we love, but sometimes it happens unexpectedly. Sometimes you fall in love simply because it is meant to be. It isn’t a choice to fall in love, but it is a choice to fight for your love. To fight for happiness, equality, and love.”

You and Laurie looked at each other for a moment. Having no idea what to say to her confession. Your mind was running a mile a minute but only one thing repeated over and over and your head.

Amy was here.

“I turned down Fred’s proposal.” She continued. “And that was because I couldn’t live a life of lie. I couldn’t put myself aside for someone else. I don’t want a marriage of economic propositions. I rather never marry than be unhappy in marriage. I don’t want marriage if I can’t have it with you both. I love you both. And you don’t have to say anything but I needed to let you both know. I need-”

You pushed yourself out of Laurie’s hold and pressed your lips to Amy's. You kissed her as if you would never kiss her again as if this was the last day on earth. As if all the oxygen was gone except for the one in her body. “Amy March, you speak too much,” you laughed, feeling tears run down your face.

Amy was crying as well. She released a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I know I know. I ramble sometimes and I talk too much but that is because I am passionate and this is important and you should talk about things that are important to you and you are-”

“Oh Amy, please,” Laurie chuckled, taking your place and pulling her into a kiss. His hand cupped the side of her face. His other hand reached back to tangle in yours. Laurie squeezed your hand and you couldn’t help but laugh and squeezes his back.

Amy pulled away flushing and you grinned grabbing her and pulling them both into the house. “Amy I am so happy you are here. My life would not be complete without you,” you said.

“Neither would mind,” Laurie said.

“My life is not a life without either of you,” Amy said, wrapping her arms around both your waists and hugging you both tightly.

You sighed happily hugging them both to you. Your eyes closed as you let yourself get lost in the hold of the two people you loved most in the world.

“So are we doing this,” Laurie asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at both of you.

Amy looked between the two of you and nodded. “Yes, more than anything.”

You smiled nodding. “You already know my answer.”

“Good we have a lot to talk about and work out but for now, I just want to be with you both.”

You chuckled at the dark look in his eyes, one you have seen multiple times and Laurie flushed at your words. He was still so embarrassed of his desires and you just found him more enduring and attractive.

Amy glanced between the two of you. She pouted as she felt as if she was left out of some conversation. Seeing her pout, you cup her face kissing her until she melts against you. “Amy, my dove, sweet Theo wants to spend time together.”

She nodded still lost.

“Naked in bed,” you added. You laughed at they both turned red. Amy glanced over at Laurie and he found the marble floors much more interesting.

“Will it be like when we did it?” She asked. Laurie’s head snapped up at her words, his mouth hanging open slightly.

You smirked at him, grabbing her hand. “It will be much better.” You held out your other hand for Laurie and tugged them both towards the bedroom. Once you closed the door, you stared at both of them.

Laurie was bouncing on his heels as his eyes jumped from your frame to Amy’s. He looked so excited both you and Amy shared a look shaking your heads at him. “Don’t have a secret conversation about me,” he pouted.

“Poor Theo,” you said walking towards the bed. You slowly began undressing your outer layers, but they both jumped in helping you to undress. And then you and Amy turned your attentions to Laurie, undressing him quickly.

Now both naked, you and Laurie turned to Amy. She giggled nervously and you smiled pressing yourself against her back while Laurie did the same to her front. “Relax Amy, we have you,” Laurie said, as he unbutton her corset.

“We will take care of you. We will make sure you are having a good time,” you said, undoing the bows and knots.

“I trust you both,” she said.

Once all three of you were undressed you all moved to the bed. Amy in the middle with you and Laurie on either side of her. Laurie grabbed the back of your head and kissed you deeply.

You groaned against his lips as he bite your lower lip and tugged your hair slightly. You melt into the kiss and his touch, lost in Laurie’s orbit. A hand stroking your thigh and Laurie’s deep moan had you breaking away to look down at Amy.

She was stroking your thigh and running her finger along Laurie’s cock. “What do you call this?” she whispered to him.

He bit his lip, his breath hitching. “Um, it’s um it’s called a penis or a cock.”

She nodded. You wrapped your hand around hers and help her stroke his cock slowly. Laurie hissed causing you both to look up at him. “I won’t last long if you both keep this up,” he chuckled.

You and Amy giggled and you released her hand, pushing her shoulder back until she lay flat on the bed. You situated yourself between her thighs, kissing her heatedly. You moaned and Amy grabbed your hips and grinding against you.

Laurie’s hand slid over both your shoulders, before going down your spine, causing you to shiver. Rubbing the head of his cock between the two of you his hands interlocked with Amy’s on your hips.

“Please, Theo,” you begged, against Amy’s lips.

“What is he going to do?” She asked, her eyes dark with lust and dancing with eagerness.

You grinned down at her. “Something amazing,” you said, dragging your lips along the side of her face, biting little love marks into her jaw.

Raising your hips slightly Laurie, pushing his cock between your bodies rocking his hips and moaning as he slid against both your soaking cores. Moaning you bit down harder on Amy causing her to cry out.

“Sorry, my dove,” you ran your tongue over the area in apology.

“No I like it bit me more,” she said, moving her hands to Laurie’s ass and pulling him closer. Laurie’s ball slapped loudly against your ass along with the sounds of your slick as it dripped from you to Laurie’s cock and down onto Amy.

Laurie groaned picking up speed and pressed his body against yours so he could kiss Amy. You reached between your bodies and rubbed both your nerves Each thrust in had your fingers brushing Laurie’s sensitive head.

“So close, not going to last much longer,” He groaned into her mouth.

“Me either, faster, please,” you moaned.

Amy shudders under you both. The weight of your body felt crushing, but she still wanted more of you both. She wanted you closer. She spread her legs wider, looping one of her legs around your calf and the other around Laurie’s waist.

“Oh, Dio,” Laurie breathed, as he came, shooting cum all over your lower stomach and and soaking you both more. Amy moaned, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose as she came, you followed quickly after her.

Laurie thrust sloppily a few more times before rolling off of you onto the bed. Taking deep breaths you rolled off of Amy. You all lay in silence for a few minutes as you all tried to catch your breath.

And then Laurie started laughing, causing you both to look over at him. He continued to laugh, covering his hands with his face. You sat up on your elbows to look at him closely. Amy's eyebrows pinched together, sitting up as well.

“Laurie, what is so funny?” She asked.

“Yes, let us in on the joke,” you said, draping your arm over her hips and blinking expectantly at him.

He chuckled, removing his hand, and turned to face you both. “I was just thinking about the day Amy fell into the water.”

“What? Why?” You laughed.

“She fell in and we went in to save her. All three of us soaking wet and laid on the ice like this. I remember being so terrified but then Amy complained about her ruined dress and we all laughed.”

You snorted, laughing as well.

“It was a pretty dress. And it was new,” she defended.

“You almost died,” Laurie stressed laughing.

You joined in kissing her shoulder. “I was terrified too but it was one of my favorite days with the two of you.”

Amy laughed as well, wrapping herself around Laurie. “We all got cocoa at home and sat by the fire for hours just talking. All my sisters were out with Marmee and I got you both to myself.”

“And now you have us forever,” Laurie said, kissing her forehead then he pressed one to yours.

Grabbing the blanket you wrapped it around all of you, snuggling close together. You all needed to wash up and the sheets would need to be changed but that could wait until after a nap. You closed your eyes, laying your head on Amy’s shoulder as she laid hers on Laurie’s chest. As you drifted off you couldn’t help but think.

Amy loved you.

Amy loved Laurie.

She was here in Italy.

Amy was with you and Laurie.

Amy and Laurie

Amy and Laurie.

You, Amy, Laurie.

Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry

@valencia-rou

@s-we-e-t-t-ea

@robertpattins0nswh0re

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #laurie laurence x reader #laurie x amy #laurie x amy x reader #laurie x reader #amy march x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet smut #laurie smut #smut

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masonmyluv · 6 months

Text

Part 1

A/N: I really hope you will all like this story. It’s my first pretty long story (it will have around 10 parts, so stay tuned ;) ) that I’m posting here. You can also find the story on my wattpad account (username: tmrxlover_writer).

Pictures are from Pinterest, the filter is Cinnamon on Polarr.

Warnings: none

︵✦⋆₊°˖︵‿₊

Another day at Uni after he just scored his first La Liga goal . He was buzzing, but had to be on time for classes. He was sure the whole university will congratulate him. Being famous was difficult when you just wanted to be a normal student.

"Our boy Fermin is back!"

You looked up from your notes to see Fermin being congratulated by the whole class. People hugging him, patting him on the back. "Thanks man" he kept saying, trying to make his way to his place. He just wanted the class to begin so everyone could leave him alone. "Hey" he said, sitting next to you. "Hi" you replied quietly. Being the shy nerdy girl was bad enough when you were sitting near the hot athletic guy. You asked yourself multiple times why did he choose to sit near you in the first year. There were a lot of empty places, but he chose the second row in the front, exactly near you. "Anything that I missed?" He asked, looking at your notes. He always admired your beautiful handwriting and how organised you were, so he knew where to choose to sit at your first class together. Surely not the guy with only a piece of paper and a pen, but rather the girl surrounded by books, coloured pencils and a cup of coffee. He didn't have the balls to ask you to get coffee in the morning, even though he wasn't drinking it, he would offer to come along with you.

"Erm...not really. We talked about more practical stuff. I made some notes if you want to take a picture or something" you offered shyly. You never ever gave your notes to anyone because they were just some lazy asses who didn't care about anything, but you were here to learn. You wanted to be a physiotherapist. They were here just to get a diploma. Not Fermin though. He was passionate about the subject, even though he missed a lot of classes because of his packed schedule. You were willing to help him because he showed interest. And appreciated your work too.

"Thanks. Actually I had an idea, I mean a proposal" he said. "I'm quite behind with everything, so I was wondering if you'd like to meet somewhere and help me catch up? It's okay if you don't want to" he said nervously. Why the heck was he nervous? He scored his first goal in freaking La Liga and was nervous talking to a girl he's seen almost every day in 3 years. You thought about his idea, you wanted to help him, but you weren't the person to meet up in random places to study. You liked the confined space of your room and desk, and maybe the library or the coffee shop, when you had to do computer work.

"I don't want to sound... uhh... like I'm inviting myself" he said blushing as if reading your mind. "But I can come to your place, if that's okay with you". "I... uhh" you rambled on, but the professor was already in class, ready to read one of his boring presentations for 2 hours. You barely paid attention to what he was saying, debating whether to accept Fermin's idea or not, while drawing random patterns on your copybook. Fermin noticed you zooming out so he scribbled something down on his own copybook. He nudged you so you could read what he wrote.

It's okay. It was just an idea :)

You shook your head, writing under his: we talk after the class.

For the rest of the class, you took notes, while Fermin tried paying attention, but his mind kept drifting off somewhere else. What if he overstepped with all this I-can-come-to-your-place-to-study thing and you would think he's weird? He face palmed himself for that, but you were his only hope to pass the exams this semester. The professor finally ended the class and you started packing your bag. Neither of you spoke until you were out of the class.

"Listen I—"

"It's okay if—"

You both stopped mid sentence and chuckled. "You first" he encouraged. "So, I think it's okay for you to come. I live alone anyway. Just tell me when it's okay with you". Fermin couldn't believe what he was hearing. You never ever invited someone over and he could respect that it was your safe place and he didn't want to intrude. "Are you sure it's okay?" He asked and you nodded. "Okay, let me see. Actually I'll text you the day before because I'll have some recovery trainings and I'll be free to come" he said. "I know it's difficult to put up with me" he chuckled nervously. "It's okay. It's not like I'm a party animal or anything" you said. "Okay... I'll let you know soon. Bye. And thank you" he said, climbing into his car. He thought of offering you a car ride, but maybe it was too much overstepping in one day, so he just waved at you and you waved back to him.

When you arrived home, you thought about this day. What the heck was today? Of course you gave him your notes pretty often, but him to come here to study? That was a whole new level.

︵✦⋆₊°˖︵‿₊

Hope you like it 🤍

Feedback is appreciated 😊

#fermin lopez fluff #fermin lopez #fermin lopez marin #fermin lopez smut #football imagine

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bluhourz · 1 year

Text

when you get hurt

Having a crazy tall boyfriend had it perks. Like being able to put your head on his chest when you hug, how he intimidates anyone who makes you uncomfortable as soon as he walks over, and how he can reach everything on the high shelves for you. The last one was a problem when he wasn't home though. Hence why you shakily stood on a chair trying to reach the cereal he placed on the highest shelf in the kitchen.

"I swear it's like he forgets how short I am," you huffed as you strained forwards.

Just as you felt the box touch your fingers the chair gave way underneath you. This is how you found yourself stuck at home with a cast covering your left leg. Hiding it from Yeonjun was not the best choice you could have made but you knew how he would react and you didn't want to distract him. You decided to just tell him when he came back home.

Finally the day came and Yeonjun was coming back home from the USA. You have been missing him like crazy, like you usually do, but you knew how big it was for them to be performing there. Looking at your leg you felt a bit nervous about what he would say. You didn't have long to worry about it before he burst through the door.

"I'm home baby!" he yelled with a big smile on his face. He was expecting you to be running towards him to jump in his arms like you usually do. Instead he saw you smiling sheepishly on the couch.

"Junnie," you said as you tried standing up.

As soon as he saw your cast he dropped everything and ran over to your side.

"No, sit down," his hands gently pushed you down again as he crouched in front of you, "What happened? Why didn't you tell me? Do you need me to get you something? No, wait. First, how in hells name did you even do this? Did you try dancing to Crown again? You know I said I would teach you when I came back." Yeonjun had a frown and a massive pout on this face.

"No, I was trying to get the cereal that this guy who has like 80% legs put right at the back on this highest shelf possible. It's not that serious though," you laughed.

"Jagi, this is serious," his voice showed how hurt he was feeling, "How could you not tell me? You're hurt. And you have been all alone. Why have you been trying to deal with this by yourself?"

"I've not been by myself," you sighed. You knew he was angry. He had the right to be. "Y/F/N has been coming around almost every day to help me."

"You know that's not what I mean," Yeonjun ran his hand through his hair as he also sighed, "How could you not tell me that you broke your leg? You know I would've flown down immediately."

"Which is exactly why I didn't tell you. Imagine what MOA would say if you just didn't perform at Lollapalooza. As a fellow MOA I couldn't do that to them or to me."

You tried to joke with him to lighten the mood but it didn't quite work. The frown stayed ever present on Yeonjun's pretty face as his eyes stayed on your leg.

"Baby, please don't be upset with me," your voice was soft as you took his hands in yours.

The slight way he leaned forward into your touch gave you hope. Finally, he let out a big sigh as his eyes met yours.

"I'm really sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want you to worry when you had such an important show. I'm okay though. Really."

He stayed quiet as you spoke, trying to explain yourself. His eyes didn't leave your face now. You gave one last smile to convince him you were okay.

"Really? You promise?" his voice was soft as he asked.

"Really."

Carefully, Yeonjun placed his hands on your cast. He inspected some of the drawings and messages your friends have written down so far. Finally, he found one that managed to make him smile.

"Who just drew a butt?" he chuckled.

"Ooohhhh, so that was Y/F/N. You know the time we went to the river for the picnic?"

And so you two shared the stories of what you have been up to while he's been gone. You were just happy to be together again, forgetting briefly about your injury.

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gingerjunhan · 4 months

Text

boyfriend headcannons - han hyeongjun

☆彡 EEEEEEKK it’s Jun Han time! :D 🩷

word count: 690 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: YouTube like is safe!!, all caps, (Hyeongjun’s) insecurities mentioned, eating mentioned, I love him, not proofread, lmk if I missed something

← previous member | next member →

obviously, I have a lot to say

here we go

first things first, Hyeongjun shows you how he loves you instead of telling you

there was some radio interview they did one time where the other members said he doesn’t say “I love you much”

so he makes sure to physically show his appreciation for you

what’s that? you were stressed from your workload? Hyeongjun made you dinner and cleaned up your place while you were out

you’re feeling nervous about a big job interview? he got you flowers to wish you good luck

stuff like that

I also feel like someone somewhere said that Hyeongjun is really good with dates?

idk maybe I’m gaslighting myself into thinking that

but he never never forgets anything!

birthdays, anniversaries, important events- he’s there

I also think a lot about the one Knock Down Debate that they did where Hyeongjun yelled at the others because they never pick up their phones when he calls them

so hey, at least he’s good at communication in that aspect

I don’t think Hyeongjun is one for pet names

I literally cannot picture him calling someone a pet name, but I could easily be wrong

if he did I feel like they would be simple

“honey”

“love”

“sweetie”

short and sweet stuff

he gets flustered easily if you call him something though!

I feel like it would be really easy to fluster him

STOOOPP imagine Hyeongjun meeting your pets

forget about your family- let this man meet your cat

okay but fr this man is sweating buckets meeting your family

he’s afraid that they would think he’s too quiet or too boring :(

but once they get to know him and once he warms up to them that’s obviously not true!

I mean, come on, look at the way that man can shred on the guitar. there is not a boring bone in his body

he’s a kiss on the cheek typa guy

no big fancy gestures

just something cute, simple, and sweet

he actually doesn’t strike me as a big gesture guy at all?

no wait let me explain

let me cook

not big on PDA, not the best with words, and he wouldn’t feel like his acts of kindness are very big

like, he let you hold on to kkito while he was away for a few days so you wouldn’t miss him- why are you crying?

ugh I wanna squeeze him :(

he will come to you with any sort of problem no matter how big or how small

he trusts you completely

he would literally be your friend first and your boyfriend second

Hyeongjun strikes me as the type to not need affection much, but when he does he’s a little nervous to ask

“Jun, what’s wrong?”

“I need a hug.” :(

you almost don’t hear him but y’all are so close that you can figure it out

you can basically read his mind

I feel like a relationship with Hyeongjun would go slow, and that’s okay!

why mess with perfection 😉

no need to rush first kisses or first I love yous

you’re just having fun together!

HE MAKES A PLAYLIST OF SONGS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU 😭😭😭😭

“This song played in the restaurant during our first date.”

“This song was stuck in my head right before you kissed me for the first time.”

“This song was-“ STOP IT I can’t do this anymore

ALWAYS makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

making sure you eat meals and get enough rest

he’s so open minded!

I feel like he has strong opinions, but he’s chill with most things?

those two things literally cancel out but whatever

he buys clothes that he also thinks you would like in case you want to steal them 😼

pays very close attention to detail!

no new haircut or nail color goes unnoticed!

he draws little pictures of you in his sketchbook all the time :(

loving Hyeongjun is gentle, calm, and fun- like sitting in the grass on a sunny day

no pressure, no rush, just you two having fun being together 🩷

god I love him so much

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #junhan x reader

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olderthannetfic · 9 months

Note

I’d like to appeal to the advice of your followers with a question concerning the degree of realism of sex in smutty fanfic. Two questions really. I know fanfic is not reality- but if (almost) all authors describe certain things in a specific way, I start to wonder if I missed something. And since I write a bit myself, I’d like to get things right.

The first is about bruising. A tight grip on arms or hips is apparently enough to cause bruises. I have participated in enthusiastic and even rough sex and never, ever got bruised. So I decided to test it out with my husband and asked him to try and bruise my arm by gripping it. Even a very tight grip caused no bruises. I only got (mildly) bruised after asking him to apply full force, which took him some effort and was seriously painful. It really hurt and not in the sexy way. Now maybe I bruise less easy than most but encounters with table corners etcetera say otherwise. So am I missing something here, or did smut writers collectively decide that bruising is sexy and therefore bruises are easily caused by a tight grip?

The other thing is about soreness. In all or most fics, not only fanfic but also conventional straight romance novels, passionate sex means the receiving party will be sore enough to be limping the day after or even have trouble sitting down. In my personal experience, very rough, slam-in-as-hard-as-you-can fucking both vaginal and anal does not result in any observable soreness afterwards while walking or sitting. The insides may get chafed, yes, rubbed raw even, depending on the use of lube, and that will be supremely noticeable during consequent bathroom visits or the next fuck session if it follows soon after the first, but that’s it. The only soreness I ever had was muscle soreness in my thighs or other limbs if the position took some physical effort to maintain. But internal soreness, never. So again, did writers collectively decide soreness is sexy, or what’s happening?

I'm pretty sure they're both just Law of Horny.

Yes, probably some people do bruise more easily than you, but the way this is described in fic is as though those hands had finger paint on them. We're talking full on hand prints after a few minutes of slightly hard gripping. Nobody bruises like that unless they have a medical problem where they should be a lot more careful during sex. Haha.

TBH, the kinds of characters who end up with hip bruises are usually also the ones who have milky white/jade/etc. skin the narrative obsesses over. It's the same ones whose necks get marked up and obsessed over. It's one of those 'you're too pristine, so I'm going to come all over your face' kinks.

As for soreness... I think "sore" vs. "chafed" is just word choice. Authors may not mean muscle soreness. I've definitely managed to make the chafed feeling last for a while by using absurdly large dildos, and everybody in porn has a massive pornstar dick...

That said, while I've certainly had that sensation where something feels different the next day such that you notice it while walking around, not just in the bathroom, it's not your glutes. It's not usually deep inside either. It's more just the opening, where all the nerves are. The way people describe sitting gingerly is silly: Sure, you might be hyperaware while changing position because that area stretches a little, but it's described like the aftermath of flogging.

I think this is just the "Dick so big it rearranged your guts" style of smut writing where the body is ~forever changed~ by this particular sex even though people are made of a bunch of stretchy muscles that are going to go right back to what they were doing before. I mean, I guess you could forever fuck up the cartilage in your knee while doing something stupidly athletic, but that's not hot.

Do I believe somebody identifies with these porn tropes? Sure. Bodies vary. But there's definitely a canned porn version everybody uses, and I doubt it's because they're drawing from personal experience.

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berenwrites · 3 months

Text

Revelation - Stranger Things - Steddie - G

Rating: G | cw: none | tags: pre-steddie, bisexual steve harrington

Prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap (@unclewaynemunson)

A/N: Written for @steddielovemonth day 3. Missed day 2 because I was too busy, so I didn’t get it finished, but here it goes for day 3.

Also on AO3 | All my other Stranger Things Fic

Revelation :A Heart-stopping Reality

It was not a day for revelations. It was a day for relaxing in the sun with friends and letting the world go by. Steve was not prepared for anything else.

He had been sitting on a sun lounger watching Nancy dunking Jonathan in the pool while Eddie and Argyle sat on the side talking about something when it had hit him. All he’d been doing was comparing Eddie’s scars to his own in his head, thinking about how they matched in a couple of places. A perfectly innocent thought.

At least it had started that way.

He’d started wondering if Eddie’s scars were as sensitive as his own, what they would feel like under his fingers. What it would feel like to have Eddie touch his.

And now here he was sitting on his bathroom floor trying not to freak out.

“Steve, what’s wrong?”

Robin had to be standing in his bedroom. He’d managed to make it into the house without drawing much attention to himself, but she had been in the kitchen and, of course, she’d clocked him straight away. He’d made a dash for the stairs, but she’d clearly followed him.

“Steve, I don’t like it when you go quiet.”

She really did sound worried.

“You can come in,” he said, even as he mentally flailed.

Robin stepped into the bathroom, took one look at him, and immediately closed the door behind her again. Without a word she crossed the distance between them and sat down right next to him.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked.

It wasn’t demanding, just a question, and he felt something tight release a little in his chest. This was Robin, the person he told everything to. The person who told him everything too. The person he could embarrass by saying the word ‘boobies’, but who asked him to help her pick out her outfit, including underwear, for her first date with Vickie. The only reason Vickie wasn’t at his house today was because she had been dragged on vacation by her parents.

He took a deep breath. It was supposed to be calming, but it didn’t help that much.

“I think,” he started to say and stopped for a few moments. “I think,” he began again, “I might have a thing for Eddie.”

His heart hammered as he said it out loud and for the first time, he really appreciated how brave Robin had been in that bathroom in Starcourt mall. He knew Robin, she was his platonic soulmate, and admitting what he was thinking out loud was terrifying. They had only been work colleagues who had become begrudging friends when she came out to him. How she had had the courage, he couldn’t comprehend.

“Our Eddie?” Robin checked as if she didn’t quite believe what she had heard. “Hyperactive metal head, pariah turned hero of this town. That Eddie?”

He nodded.

“I wondered how his scars feel and what it would feel like if he touched mine and then it hit me that I’ve been thinking things like that a lot lately,” he admitted quietly, “and maybe I want to kiss him too.”

“And how does that make you feel?” Robin asked, reaching out and taking his hand.

“Terrified,” he said as his stomach flip-flopped yet again. “Have I been lying to myself my whole life?”

She squeezed his fingers gently.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, leaning in close. “You know it’s okay to have a thing for girls and boys, right?”

Little rivulets of cold shock lanced through his chest.

“What?” was the best he could do.

“Remember I told you about Bowie, how he identified as bisexual?” Robin said.

“That time I had the really bad nightmare and you biked over?” he asked, because he vaguely remembered the conversation.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “That’s what bisexual means, liking boy and girls. Did I not explain it properly. God I am such a bad queer.”

“You probably did,” he interrupted her, before she could berate herself too much, “but I was running on about two hours sleep in three days. I probably missed it.”

He’d had a bit of a rough patch around Halloween the previous year. Too many memories and too many changes going on around him. It had brought all the nightmares back.

“And I just rambled at you,” Robin said, looking down.

“I love it when you ramble,” he assured her. “Helps get me out of my head. So, bisexual?”

“Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p’.

“But I’ve never…” he started to say. “At least I don’t think I have. Eddie is the first.”

“Bisexuals don’t have to like girls and boys equally,” Robin explained. “Maybe Eddie just pushes your buttons. I mean I’m not saying you have a type, but dark curly hair, big expressive eyes definitely do it for you. There’s Nancy for one, and you’ve only been even vaguely serious about one person since last summer and that was Melanie, who also had dark curls and big brown eyes. Or maybe it’s the whole you carried him out of hell thing that’s woken up that side of you. Just believe me when I say, there’s nothing wrong with what you are feeling.”

Steve took a shuddering breath. He had really needed to hear that.

“So, how do you feel now?” Robin asked after a few moments.

“Still terrified,” he admitted, but managed to give her a small smile, “but maybe a little better.”

“And what do you want to do now?” she asked. “Do you want to freak out a bit more up here? Do you want to go back down? I can kick them all out if you need space.”

He drew in another deep, stuttering breath as he considered her words.

“I think,” he said eventually, “I want to go down there and kiss him senseless until he doesn’t know what hit him.”

Robin blinked at him.

“Actually,” she said after a moment, “that is a very you reaction. Just maybe, ask first, yeah?”

“You think he’ll say yes?” he asked, stomach twisting yet again.

“Given the way he watches your ass, I think you might have a chance,” Robin replied. “I mean on an aesthetic level you do have a great ass, so there’s a small possibility it’s just hypnotising, but I’m more on the he wants a piece of that side of the fence.”

“You’re not joking?” Steve checked.

“About something this important, I would never,” Robin assured him in her most serious tone.

“Do you think he’s bisexual too?” Steve asked.

“Could be gay,” Robin pointed out.

“No, we’ve talked about girls,” he said, “and I don’t think he’d be that great an actor when he’s high.”

“Then could be,” Robin agreed, “but you do remember you have three other people down there, right?”

He did, so he nodded. That actually helped in a bizarre sort of way. Now he needed a plan to get Eddie alone, which gave him something else to think about. There was the gut-wrenching possibility that Eddie would reject him, after all he didn’t have the best track record with relationships even if Eddie did swing that way, but now he had a glimmer of hope. It was enough to cut a small path through the almost overwhelming fear.

It would hurt if Eddie did turn him down because he was all too aware his heart was already in this. It’s what made it quite so frightening. He hadn’t even realised he was falling, but he was self-aware enough to know he was way past a simple crush.

Maybe someone else would have taken the time to think it all through, but Steve wasn’t really a thinker, he was a doer. He knew only too well, if he wasn’t careful, he could think himself into a hole that was very difficult to climb out of, so he tended to act first, over-think later. He’d been terrified for a good percentage of his life since 1983. This was a different kind of fear, but he hadn’t let the first one stop him, so this one wasn’t going to either.

“Thanks, Robs,” he said, doing his best to give her the patented Harrington smile.

He could tell she saw straight through it, but she smiled back anyway.

“Go get ‘im, Tiger,” were her words of wisdom.

All my other Stranger Things Fic

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #eddie lives #post season 4 #steddielovemonth #eddie x steve #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet

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delta-pavonis · 3 months

Note

Dream Journal Rescue for the wip game, please

WHOO! Thank you for asking about this one, Nonny.

For the 2022 Dreamling Secret Santa I took a risk and wrote something that can be very divisive in fanfic and in fiction in general: first person narrative. I wrote the first half of i had a dream (i got everything i wanted) as a dream journal that Hob used to record his dreams after they came back when Dream got out of the fishbowl in 2021. It draws both from the early comics and from the TV show in terms of events/timeline. This fic got significantly less attention than the others I had written at the time, but it was also the one I was most proud of that year (and that's with Eros in Pragma and Hypnopompia turtur in there!). I am still extremely proud of it because it is, for me, I think very poetic writing. However, the first version of i had a dream wasn't post-fishbowl, but actually started before the fishbowl. Hob still kept a dream journal, and it still started in first person, but the idea originally was that Hob would figure out that something had happened to his Stranger because of his dreams stopping. Which meant that they needed to have enough of a relationship/rapport by the 1910s that Hob would trust that Dream would not miss a dream "date" of theirs without very good reason. Hence, "dream journal rescue" as the name. I only have pieces of the fic, but I keep them because I still viscerally love what I did with i had a dream SO FUCKING MUCH that I want to return to that style at some point. If you have read i had a dream you will see the bits I took from this and transferred to that.

This is totally G-rated and starts before 1889, as Hob is anticipating that next meeting, and then keeps going into 1914. Here's what I have in that WIP file:

21 October 1885

I think I need to write these down. Olive suggested I start writing these down. She is usually right about such things.

Maybe it will bring some clarity to this… mess.

I’m in the White Horse Inn. (It is always the White Horse.)

The year is not obvious from the decor, which is a riotous mix of 1389 and 1489 and 1789. Delicate teacups and straw-covered floor and fireplaces with chimneys. Of course chimneys. But I know, in the way of dreams, that it is the day of our annual appointment, the next one, in 1889.

I shake my coat and hat free of the London morning rain. I am many hours before the time of our appointment. This my usual - I always arrive early. To ready the table and, more importantly, myself for our meeting.

But in this dream I enter the White Horse to find the Stranger already there. He looks exactly as he did in 1789. Which must say something about my imagination since he has always been in impeccable fashion specific to the era of our meeting.

Or perhaps it is because he looks at me with the same burning intensity that made our last appointment so spectacular. His eyes devour me, just as they did when we parted last, and I am absolutely helpless to resist.

I am sitting then, across from him, cups of tea and venison pasties between us. His beautiful pale fingers trace around the gilded edge of the teacup. I am speaking, words tumbling forth, I can hear the droning vibrations in my ears and throat, but it is not where my attention lies.

My attention is riding the wave in his coalblack hair. My attention is wafting the bob of his throat above his high collar. My attention is tracing the sweet pout of his pink lips. My attention is flying through storm-sky eyes.

He reaches across and

Fuck. I can’t write this.

[There are several attempts at starting entries after the previous one. None manage more than a sentence.]

[No attempts at entries are made after 1889.]

1 November 1898

I woke up still drunk and still in very rural Wales (note: never ever always maybe return for Nos Calan Gaeaf in the future) and found this old journal in the bottom of my trunk, so I suppose I shall once again make a valiant attempt to take dear Olive’s advice to sort out the dreams of my Stranger that ever plague me.

(I have heard tell of work by a man named Freud who claims dreams can be used to better understand someone’s psychology and potentially even relieve psychosis. He'd have a field day with me. May I never come within 400 miles of him.)

My drunk mind lacks creativity for scenery and so when I sleep this night I find myself in the same village square I was in only hours prior… however, I am back in time about 400 years? Long before the industrialization of the region, before the extermination of these old traditions by the expansion of “civilization.”

I have just won the silly harvest mare from the clutches of the other young men bringing the last of the harvest in, a horse-shaped horror made from the final stalks of grain reaped. I am now expected to try to sneak this rustling beast into the home where the bulk of the feast is being prepared by the womenfolk without one of them dousing me with washwater. If I succeed in getting into the kitchen unscathed I will win their finest beer and an honored seat at the feast-table. I am always up for new games.

(This is all Iwan’s fault for convincing me to accompany him home for the holiday yesterday and for me getting drunk while they all told me stories of the Old Days. Let it never be said that I abandon a friend in their time of need.)

I easily weave through the crowds of women and children, in their dresses and aprons and smocks, clothing I haven’t seen in centuries but are still as real as yesterday, and cross the kitchen threshold only to find the room empty. An empty kitchen except for the crackle of the hearthfire and my Stranger sat on a barrel in front of it.

The large fire paints him in oranges and golds and he looks warm and inviting in a way that I have never experienced outside of my mind. It is the moment I know for certain that this is a dream.

When he looks up to me he appears confused, brows drawn, lips parted.

I am the first to speak, although words do not come easily to me. “What…?” After our parting in 1889 I can scarce understand why I am seeing him before me now. Although nightmares of the night plagued me in the months afterwards, I had been blessedly free of any night-time visits from my Stranger for almost a decade now. It has been an unexpected boon after so many years of dreaming of him more carnally. I know these facts within the dream. “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t stand, cranes his neck back to look up at me, and I realize he has a low collar this night, lower than it had been even in 1489. I can see flame-gold arcing around the shadowed hollow of his throat.

“It is a Ysbrydnos.” He explains in perfect Welsh, as if I am some child. I do not question why I can so easily understand him despite my mediocre grasp of the language. It is a dream, after all. “Many call on me such nights.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yes, ‘tis a Spirit Night and you a spirit.”

He tilts his head to the side, bird-like and distinctly not human. “Not as such. But I will attend the dreams of many who call me here this night.” The Stranger’s voice is just as rich and decadent as it is in person. This detail my memory - traitorous bastard it is - does not neglect.

“Of course. Even the version of you I make for my dreams gives non-answers and evasions.” I can feel my whole body hunch in defeat. I wrap my arms around myself, look to the floor. “Just why…” Even my dream cannot steady my voice. “Why does my mind show you to me now? Why this torment?”

“Ah.” Now his voice is choked and staccato. “You did not call me here yourself this night.” Perhaps he is surprised, or ashamed, I cannot tell.

Still, I want to scream. “After last time…” I grit my teeth and continue to stare at the floor.

I see the toes of his black shoes enter my field of view. His chest is perhaps a handspan from mine. “Do you truly wish to never dream of me?” This inquiry is a mocking echo of his usual question, but there is no mockery in his tone. “Given…" He shakes his head, unable to say the words. Say the words he should say: Given what I did to you… Instead he restarts the sentence, "It would be well within your right to request it.”

I sigh. He almost sounds remorseful. What a fantasy this is. How contrived. “No.” And if I ever doubted before that this was a dream the tiny bits of relief I see wash over my Stranger confirms it. His eyes soften minutely. His shoulders relax a hair's breadth. “This might be the only chance I have to ever see you again. And I would take the machinations of my mind, I would take delusions of your regard, over nothing.”

He hums, looking back to the fire as he takes a step away from me. I feel cold and bereft. “This dream is over.”

And then I woke up.

1 Nov 1898 I have not dreamed of him in six months. one year. three years. seven ten fifteen

25 May 1914

After almost 17 years I found myself dreaming of the White Horse last night and when I focused upon it in my mind’s eye I almost burst into tears.

Wait, Olive always said that this was more effective if I narrated as if I was reliving the dream. That I would get more details back that way.

I begin the dream standing outside the White Horse Inn and knowing that I am dreaming. It is the first time I have begun a dream this aware and therefore it is noteworthy.

When I enter I feel his presence before I see it. Through the doors in the back, to the private room that had been set aside for us in 1789. He is once again in front of a fireplace, standing this time, hands clasped at the small of his back as he looks down into the flames.

(Note: Ponder this pattern more later, that I associate him in dreams with fire.)

The door to the room automatically closes behind me and he turns. Despite the venue, he is dressed, as always, in the pinnacle of fashion. All black - of course - but a suit with long jacket and waistcoat and tie nonetheless. The ever-present ruby sits heavy and dark just below his throat.

“I did not intend the delay, Hob.” And doesn’t that throw me for a loop. I did not know prior to that moment that one could get dizzy in their own dreams. “I sometimes forget that time flows… differently… for you humans. But I did think on our last conversation.”

Thirty questions stampede through my mind at once. Everything from ‘Did he just directly admit that he is not human?’ to ‘Which last time?’ I throw all of these aside and instead opt for a cautiously lilted “And?”

A magnanimous wave of his hand and we are sitting, the same tea and sweets that were present in 1789 grace the table between us. I hold my breath. “Perhaps we can pick up, as much as we can, where we were in 1789 before the Lady Constantine interrupted us.” I am so taken aback by the turn this dream has taken that I cannot for the life of me think of what to say next. Luckily, my mind does not require me to as he continues. “I believe you asked my name.”

I almost fall over myself to give him leave to avoid it. “Only if you wish it.” Just don't leave again.

He smiles, something brighter than usual, and it feels like looking into the Sun. “I have a list of titles, which we can get to later, but the simplest name is Dream.”

I clamp down on the anguish that’s in my throat, but it still comes out as a high-pitched wheeze from between my teeth. “Dream?! DREAM?!?” I let myself slump boneless into the chair, impropriety be damned, and splay my legs out in front of me, hands over my face. “Oh fuck my mind and these GAMES. Why can it not send me sweet dreams of you? Of COURSE you are named Dream… you are a dream! Has my subconscious no creativity? Christ in heaven…”

“Hob!” He shouts. He has never shouted at me before. I look to him through my fingers, meet twilight-blue eyes. “My name is Dream of the Endless and I am the King of Dreams and Nightmares.”

Shock, bright white and violent, runs through me and I quite literally fall out of my chair.

And then I wake up.

26 May 1914

I do not think I have ever been more wrong about something in my long long life.

Fuck.

My Stranger is Dream. He lords over dreams and nightmares. They are his Domain, his Kingdom.

F U C K

I knew that he was something Other. But this. This.

We met again last night, in my dreams. I don’t need to work at this anymore (thanks for trying, Olive) because he asked me last night if I wanted to remember this, remember meeting him. Apparently he has some manner of control over such things.

I told him yes. Of course I said yes. But I think I want to continue to keep track of what has happened, what will happen, in my dreams, here in this journal. If only so that I have something to refer to later when I have absolutely zero confidence that this is real. Some proof that I haven’t gone completely barmy.

Last night we talked. Just talked. It was in a liminal space, barely distinct as containing a floor and walls and chairs. All monotone, in blacks and greys and faint whites. It still reminded me of the back room from 1789.

He - Dream - told me so much. More than he had ever said to me in one go ever before. He told me some of his other names: Lord Morpheus (or just Morpheus), Prince of Stories, Oneiros, Shaper of Forms. He has a kingdom, home to dreams and nightmares alike. They are not only his citizens, but he creates them. Creates!

I have so so many questions.

But I must parcel them out carefully. Each answer is a treasure I will hoard.

I returned his generosity with words of my own.

#Dreamling #Pavonis writes #another dream journal fic

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starfirewildheart · 4 months

Text

Chapter 3

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 1717

They had been traveling for nearly a week. Naurel was getting stronger but Geralt was still worried. He knew something was not as it should be with her but he couldn't seem to get her to open up about the things that had happened. They came to the last city between them and the final part of the journey to Kaer Morhen. He knew they had to stop and restock supplies. Also, the humans needed a soft bed and warmth for a bit. They left the horses at the stable and walked over to the Inn. Naurel was leaning against him, holding his arm to help support herself or for his warmth, he wasn’t sure which. All he knew was that he didn’t mind it. In fact, he felt at peace when they were touching.

Ciri heard someone singing inside the bar at the inn and bound up the steps. “It’s Jaskier,” she said excitedly.

“Ciri,” Gerault sighed as she ran inside ahead of him. “Damn it that girl never listens.” He and Naurel moved faster to catch up with her. Once inside Geralt grabbed Ciri’s arm and leaned close, whispering something to her that made her shiver and look repentant before he led her and Naurel to a table to sit. “Stay here where I can see you both while I get us a couple of rooms.”

Naurel waited until he walked away to put her hand on Ciri’s arm that was resting on the table. “You are going to get hurt or end up making him so angry that he’s going to punish you.”

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Please, he’s not my father. I have no family which makes me an adult. I’m in charge of me.”

“You are far from an adult little miss and you are showing that childishness more and more by the day,” Naurel warned. “He cares about you. He worries about you. Stop making it harder for him.” She knew that Geralt was struggling to figure out how to deal with a child. He knew how to deal with a misbehaved witcher but not a young human girl so he just took what she dished out. The yelling, arguing, not listening, stubbornness that she likely got away with as a spoiled little princess and Naurel was losing patients with her. Ciri was a loving girl but she was being a huge brat. She looked up at Geralt as he sat heavily in a chair beside her, noting that he put himself where his back would be up against the wall. “Everything alright?”

He nodded. “Got two rooms with an adjoining door,” he eyed Ciri, “and a large tub.” He grinned when Naurel sighed happily.

“Mmm, a bath sounds heavenly. Maybe if I boil myself I will actually heat my blood and stop having to steal your warmth,” she smiled at him.

He reflexively pulled her close. “I don’t mind sharing warmth.”

Ciri made a slight gagging sound drawing their attention. “You two need to get a room.”

“We have a room. Two in fact,” Geralt smirked at her. He loved their teasing banter when she wasn’t driving him mad with worry. Naurel was listening to the two of them and jumped when someone plopped down in a chair near her at the end of the table.

“Geralt you gorgeous beast, who are you lovely friends?”

Geralt shook his head and sighed. “Jaskier,” he nodded in greeting. He let Naurel and Ciri introduce themselves though kept his arm possessively around Naurel. Jaskier was a friend but he was also amorous and for some reason that bothered him where his newest companion was concerned.

“How did two such lovely creatures end up with such a grumpy, silent companion?” Jaskier wondered.

“He’s not silent nor grumpy,” you smiled at the bard.

“He’s grumpy and bossy,” Ciri teased.

The waitress approached and Geralt ordered food for the three of them before joining the conversation. “I’m surprised to find you this far north this close to the snowy season. I know you hate cold weather.”

“You are right,” Jaskier chuckled. “Oddly enough I’ve been looking for you. You are a very hard witcher to find. You would think with the white hair, yellow eyes, and rippling muscles that you would stand out more.” Naurel chuckled.

“Jaskier,” Geralt grumbled, stopping the bard from babbling. “Why were you looking for me? Is everything alright?”

“A friend, no, no she’s not a friend she’s a,” he stopped himself before he finished his thought. “Someone we have in common needs to speak with you. She’s rather insistent and very annoying and she keeps following me. I implore you, please speak to her before I throw myself off a cliff.”

Geralt paused as if he was considering the option of speaking to someone or letting him jump, only answering when Jaskier whined indignantly. He had an idea of who the bard was talking about but he wondered why she just didn’t come to him herself. He’d heard that she survived the battle of Sodden from Triss and he was happy to hear his friend was still alive. “Is she here?”

“I’m here,” Yennefer said from behind him. “We need to speak, alone,” she looked at the others pointedly.

He nodded and stood. “Jaskier, stay with them until I return?”

“Of course,” he smiled as he started asking both of them questions.

Yennefer led Geralt to an out-of-the-way corner near the stairs. She noticed that he positioned himself so that he could still see the table. “I need your help. Something has happened. I’ve searched everywhere, through all the lore about magic and chaos except the books at Kaer Morhen.”

“What are you searching for?”

“A spell,” she lied. “I am searching for a spell to try and help Istredd study the monoliths.” She wasn’t going to expose her weakness to anyone. It was bad enough that the old woman was in her head calling to her, telling her to bring both the woman and the girl to her; she wasn’t about to tell him she had lost her ability to do magic as well.

“Why doesn’t that ring true to me?” Geralt gave her a look.

“Fine, don’t help me,” she hissed and started to walk away.

“Yennefer,” he stopped her. “Portal to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir is willing to work with sorceresses and mages. He will show you the books you are looking for.”

“Why don’t we just travel together?” she asked. “Seems like you seem to be gathering a rather large party on your journey,” she eyed his new friends. “I could help you look after them. They both seem sort of defenseless.”

He could use some help protecting them since Ciri seemed to be so dead set on getting herself hurt. Maybe with Yennefer’s magic, he could actually rest a bit. “You want to travel, on foot, in the cold. You know it will be snowing soon?”

“Please witcher, the weather does not bother me,” she scoffed and walked back to the group at the table. She made sure to place herself next to Naurel where Geralt had been. Jealousy made her blood boil when she noticed how Geralt looked at the woman. The witcher and his new child suprise were supposed to be her family, not this woman's. She was tired of life screwing her over and giving everyone else what was rightfully hers.

Geralt frowned but sat next to Ciri. “Yennefer has decided to join us for the rest of our journey home.” Naurel looked into his eyes in question but didn’t speak, Jaskier however did.

“I’m going to then,” he insisted.

“I thought you wanted to be rid of her?” Geralt asked.

“Rid of me?” Yennefer scoffed. “I saved your life.”

“No, you distracted him so I could run. That’s not saving me, that's being a tease,” Jaskier argued. Ciri laughed at the two of them.

Their food was served and Naurel picked a small piece off of her bread and ate it as she listened to Jaskier tell stories of his time with Geralt. The bard was funny and he had kind eyes. She liked him. She could see how he would get on Geralt’s nerves though with his knack for babbling and Geralt being stoic and quiet.

‘The redhead! Bring the red head’ the deathless mother screamed in her head over and over. It was becoming hard to ignore but she pushed it to the back of her mind and continued on with the conversation. “Awe you left out the story of how the three of us met,” Yennefer interjected. “All bloody and dying because of the Djinn. Geralt, ever the protector, riding in to find me to save you.” She saw the muscles in Geralt’s jaw flex as he clenched his teeth.

“Well, he ended up saving you too,” Jaskier snapped. “More than saving you if I remember correctly.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.

The bard looked up and quickly realized he’d said too much. “But he came to his senses!”

She closed the door behind her before laying on the bed next to her friend. “He thought she was dead,” she explained softly. She wanted to be sure she knew Geralt had not intentionally tried to hurt her though Ciri never realized that Yennefer and Geralt were mates.

“I know,” her voice choked as she lost her battle with her tears. “It’s my fault,” she repeated to herself more than Ciri. She took the comfort Ciri offered and allowed the young girl to play with her hair before she ran over to the chamber pot and vomited.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

#geralt x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic

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obey-my-twisted-logic · 6 months

Text

Name-Your-Friend : You find a rather tall boy with an interesting look in your yard at Ramshackle. Despite your initial wariness, something draws you to the man and an interesting friendship blooms. Platonic!Malleus Draconia x GN!Reader

Synopsis : you make a new friend who's almost as bad at socializing as you are. He's quiet, gentle and awkward in a way that's endearing. He won't share his name, so you decide on a nickname as you confide in this mystery man. Begins the night after Riddle's Overblot.

Warnings : general spoilers about the game Disney's Twisted Wonderland. Light fluff, purely platonic and friendly, use of personal head canons and what I know about the game pre book 5. Slightly different from the in game meetings but same vibe. INCREDIBLY SELF INDULGENT BECAUSE HORNTON IS MY BEST BOY. Reader is normal font. All thoughts and musing by Malleus are italic.

Authors Note : this has been living rent free in my head since I first met Malleus in game. They can't show us every second and every interaction, so I think there's a lot of late nights he visits because he's just as lonely, and it's nice to have someone who's not groveling, calling him "my prince" or scared of him. God I love him.

---

You were physically and emotionally done for the day. Grim was passed out and dreaming of tuna all ready while you began to close the curtains. As you did, something caught your eye. Something? More like someone. You couldn't tell from this distance but because of the lighting of the moon, you could see a student of NRC just staring at your house.

It definitely startled and when you made eye contact from the window you pulled the curtains shut and dropped to the floor. Why did you feel like you'd been caught peeping? After a moment of collecting yourself, you pull on a hoodie over your pajamas and stuff on your shoes before making your way down and out of the house.

The ghost trio gave light teases as you passed. A midnight tryst?! And so soon! You'd have to introduce them. You waved them off, a little annoyed but mostly focused.

Had he run off? You can't help but wonder as you step outside into the brisk air. Scanning your surroundings you find him nearer than before. He had what you could barely call a smile on his calm and handsome features. He was so beautiful you felt inferior. Shaking off the nerves, you stepped onto the dying lawn and stood beside him, looking up to see what had caught his eye.

You weren't sure if he acknowledged your presence, but he made no move to leave or brush you off. He just continued to stare up at your roof.

"Is it the gargoyles?" You ask suddenly. It was the only thing of interest you could spy. It kind of fit his spooky yet handsome appearance. "I couldn't believe myself when I was first dumped here. Old place has a lotta very cool bits and bobs, even if it is falling to pieces..." You grumble that last bit, still frustrated that Crowley had been avoiding the topic of fixing the roof, despite all your work so far. The near perfect grades you got, handling Riddle's outburst and Overblot without dying, and just generally baby sitting some of the rowdier students.

"A child of man?" Was the first thing he said. You try not to gasp, he had such a pleasing voice. "To my knowledge, this dorm has been abandoned and forgotten for quite a while." You noticed for a split second a look of confusion. Had you not been studying his face, you may of missed it all together.

"Ah yea, I had heard that from some of the ghosts and the headmaster. My name is [Y/N], I'm Ramshackle Dorms new Prefect." You explain quickly and offer your hand.

A moment passes, and you begin to feel a fool for offering your hand to a stranger. He does however accept it within his firm gloved grasp. "A pleasure to meet you child of man. I am-" he paused and shook his head. "My name matters not, you may call me what you wish. Though careful, you may come to regret it." He gave a playful smile, exposing sharpened canines. Between the horns and his teeth, you knew he wasn't human. This didn't scare you near as much as it should, but then again three of your roommates were ghosts.

"Shy?" You ask with a shrug and give it a thought. "How about Hornton? It's a bit on the nose but it's all my brain can come up with."

He bursts into laughter, giving you his first genuine smile. "You are quite fearless child of man. Truly." He gives you one last smile. "While it's been pleasant having the ruined house to myself, I look forward to what you bring to the future." He gave the gargoyles a fond look. "Remember the gargoyles as you fix things up, and give it attention." he finished with a short bow, as he burst into a beautiful green light, leaving nothing behind but some fireflies.

What a magical way to end a very long and unpleasant day. You hoped he'd visit again, he was pleasant to be near. He gave you an odd calm feeling, even though his aura screamed danger.

~~~

You intrigued Malleus Draconia greatly. Not that he had revealed his name. Despite his overwhelming aura, you approached him with little to no hesitation.

In the following months, you'd catch him admiring the quiet of your house, even going so far as to give you advice on how to deal with the OctoTrio when they had taken hold of the dorm, threatening to leave you homeless in a world that wasn't your own and was hardly kind. Especially not kind to those without magic.

Other times you'd join him in his quiet studies of the gargoyles and surrounding forest. Occasionally you would break the silence with questions or just to add your own musing to the about the surroundings and recent event. You told him about everything, from mundane classes to nightmarish Overblotting of several Housewardens.

His favorite part about you was how you genuinely treasured your time with him. You never pushed for his identity, happy to have him as your gargoyle enthusiast friend Hornton. He found himself chuckling over the name, even when not around you. Lilia had asked about you more and more as he noticed the lingering visits Malleus spent at Ramshackle. He waved it off, merely stating he needed to check on you, his "Child of Man" who was almost completely alone in a terrifying new world, full of a magic you had never seen before. Lilia would always laugh and nod along, even going so far as to deliver a holiday card when Malleus could not himself.

Not long after the winter, he was once again in front of Ramshackle, waiting patiently for his Child of Man. He was surprised when he heard your familiar footsteps. Not surprised by them exactly, more stunned by the speed and noise that you made rushing to open your door.

"Hornton!" You exclaim and practically threw yourself at him, embracing him. It felt like so long.

The embrace surprised the fae dragon, but he caught you none the less, carefully returning the embrace. "Awfully excitable tonight aren't you child of man?" He teased lightly.

You beamed up at him with a pleased grin. "Yes! Tonight is important. It's very special." You assure him, kicking your door gently open further.

Freeing yourself from his embrace, you give him a little bow and extend your hand for his. Before he could even pout, you continued to smile at him and take his hand. "Ramshackle is finally presentable enough for me to invite you in. Hornton," you begin to lead him inside. "I welcome you in to my dorm, come have a drink or something! I'm excited, you're the first person I wanted to invite in."

"You're inviting me inside Child of Man?" Malleus asked surprised, but genuine smile and delight on his face.

"Of course! You're one of my best friends, and I wanted to share this with you as soon as I could." You led him in and rambled about how you had to enlist Azul and professor Trein to finally get Crowley to get off his ass and make the place at least a safe haven from the elements.

Malleus had stopped listening from the moment you confirmed the invite. All he could do was smile and keep his hand in yours. You truly were special. His Child of Man would always remember to invite him, always remember to have him in your life. He quite looked forward to that night, and any following adventures he would have with you.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus draconia #malleus draconia #platonic!malleus x GN!reader #obey my twisted logic

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

Revelation

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (Modern AU).

Summary: Modern AU. It's a revelation what a Bridgerton mouth and hands can achieve...

Warnngs: 18+ smut, minors DNI, fingering, oral sex (m to f), d/s undertones, dirty talk.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Author's Note: Unbetaed. This is a request fill for the talented @broooookiecrisp from this ask (essentially Benedict gives reader their first orgasm not from their own hand). Thank you to two other talents @eleanor-bradstreet for the title and @bridgertontess for the edit image above, which screams modern menace Benedict.

Your housewarming party is in full swing when he walks in, wine bottle in hand—the first man you ever fancied, aged just seven years old to his ten. Almost twenty years later, there’s still a slight flutter in your chest when he appears. Benedict Bridgerton. Rich, handsome, sweet, funny, artistic, always surrounded by a bevvy of suitors of all genders—his natural ease and open personality just attracts everyone, like bees to pollen. He sees you and smiles that killer smile, embracing you quickly and handing you the bottle with genuine warmth. One day, when he finds his special person, you know deep down you will always be a little jealous of them, that they get to be in his orbit every day.

As the evening rolls on, you find yourself in the garden, taking some fresh air and helping your sister recover from her own heavy-handed mixed drinks. In contrast, you've only had one glass of wine - yes, the one Benedict bought; he has impeccable taste - wanting to be a responsible party host. She sits next to you on your cheap, foldaway beach chairs on the otherwise empty patio.

“Found anyone you want to fuck?” she teases with her trademark bluntness.

A hollow laugh echoes into your glass. “As if.”

“Come on,” she needles, “it’s been MONTHS since your last breakup. Don’t you miss having someone else be responsible for your orgasms?”

“Hah! Chance would be a fine thing,” you scoff.

“Wait, are you… wait,” she is staring at you open-mouthed, “are you telling me no one has made you come? Like ever?”

You blush and avert your eyes, picking imaginary lint from your party dress. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She looks astonished. “Have you never…?” she whispers.

“Oh, I can get there myself. But err, no one else has put in the requisite effort, to be honest,” you shrug, being truthful. You doubt she will remember this conversation when she sobers up.

“But you’re twenty fucking six years old,” she emphasises, “someone else needs to give you an orgasm. Bloody hell, you were with Phil for two bloody years, and he never…?”

You shake your head. “I mean, he tried, but I guess maybe... I dunno. Maybe it’s just not something I can do via someone else?” you posit.

“Bullshit,” she opines loudly.

And silently, unseen by either of you, someone else agrees with her.

—

You wander back into the party, and not long after, a hand wraps around your forearm.

“Got a moment?” Benedict asks.

“For you, Bridgerton, always,” you grin.

He smiles sweetly, and you pretend not to notice your heartbeat spike as he laces his hand with yours and draws you upstairs, away from the noise and hubbub. Before you know it, he leads you into your bedroom and softly closes the door.

“I have another gift I want to give you,” his voice low.

“More delicious fancy wine? Yes, please,” you jest.

The hand in yours squeezes, and he brings you to sit next to him on your bed.

“Not exactly; this one is more intangible. Long overdue. But by god, you deserve it,” he says cryptically.

You frown at him. “Ben, stop talking in riddles, please.”

“You need to orgasm, y/n,” he exhales.

“Oh… I…” your world grins to a halt, a hundred thoughts tumbling in your mind. “You were eavesdropping?!?” Well, it seems like your brain wants to go with indignancy first. Interesting.

“Not exactly,” he squirms, “I was outside trying not to smoke. Force of habit. I overheard you talking.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“Ok, fine, yes, I was eavesdropping. But more to the point, you’ve never had an orgasm?” he looks utterly mind boggled as if he just can't compute the fact.

“You need to improve your snooping skills. I said no one ELSE has given me an orgasm; I can do it just fine by myself, thank-you-very-much,” you sniff, crossing your arms.

He barks a laugh. “Alright, I stand corrected. But still. Fucking hell, y/n. Are you serious?”

“Don’t laugh at me, Bridgerton,” you warn, the eggshell of your ego feeling more dented and cracked with every disbelieving noise he makes.

“I’m not laughing, believe me,” a hand over his heart to indicate his sincerity, “I’m indignant on your behalf.”

“Well, I’ll give you the numbers of all my exes. You can phone them and give them a piece of your mind if you want,” you shrug.

“I’m half inclined to frankly,” he admits, “but afterwards.”

“After what?” you frown.

“I give you a bloody orgasm, y/n,” he sighs as if almost irritated with your obtuseness.

You splutter in the most undignified manner. He must be joking.

“Ha bloody ha,” you deadpan after you recover.

A finger curls under your jaw and moves your head to see him. “I’m serious,” he murmurs purposefully. Those eyes, dear god, those eyes will be the death of you if you let them.

“Stop…” you stutter, “just don’t. I don’t want your pity.” You can’t disguise the raw edge in your voice as you wrench yourself from his grip.

His face morphs into one of surprise and then a frown. “That's not what this is,” he insists quietly.

“Sure seems like it,” you utter with an edge of bitterness that tastes metallic on your tongue.

“Anything that would change your mind on that?”

You just shrug wordlessly, a melancholic mood settling into your edges. There is something so knawing that it’s him, your first crush, being the one to pick at the scab of your ego.

There is a moment of silence between you where you refuse to peek at him, staring at the hem of your dress. Instead of getting up and leaving as you expect, he shuffles back on the bed and twists towards you.

“Look at me, please,” his tone is mild but has an undercurrent of something intangible.

You lift your chin to meet his soft, relaxed gaze but twist your lips a touch defiantly.

“There is only one thing about you I find unattractive,” he begins, and your brow knits that he’s choosing to dig the knife in a bit more, “and that is when you don’t believe in yourself enough. You are a confident, successful woman with a killer career who is fearless with everything… except asking for your own needs to be met. You should expect orgasms from those you allow into your bed. So don’t you dare think I want to meet your needs out of pity. I don’t pity you. I admire you. And I want to do this. In fact, I think I need to do this.”

His little speech leaves you mute. That he has managed to skewer your personality with pinpoint accuracy, both your flaws and strengths, is confounding. And what’s worse is, he’s right. Why do you demand such high standards of yourself but allow others, especially intimate partners, to disappoint?

He is watching your face closely as you take onboard everything he said and everything he implied. He intuits when you consent, or maybe he sees it written across your face because an almost predatory smile crawls over his features.

“Take off your knickers,” he instructs, his tone low and slow, something almost edged with danger in the way he says it, your pulse instantly galloping.

By god, you don’t like being told what to do by anyone, anytime… but this? This is blisteringly hot. Desire whiplashes low in your gut. And yet, something in you rebels. Wants to play with fire, see what he will do if you resist.

“Make me,” you whisper.

He emits a noise you have never heard from him before in all your years of knowing him. It's deep and animalistic, and every hair on your body stands on end. Next thing you know, you are tilted over and pinned onto your bed, his hands grabbing your wrists, your head almost hanging off the end of the bed.

“You asked for this,” he warns, the tone achingly seductive and just a touch authoritative.

His lips descend, slanting over yours and teasing with expertise. Every fibre is effervescent, awakened—something hot washing over your body from your scalp to your toes. The sudden throb between your legs is a wet, viscous ache.

He’s not dilatory either, strong fingers delving under your dress. Teasing kisses as he spiders fingertips into your underwear. You are virtually quivering before he even touches your clit.

“Ben,” you stutter into his mouth at the first brush of his fingers, your hips canting up off the bed. You have no idea what is possessing you, but you feel almost under a spell.

“Stay down and stay quiet,” he commands, a solid quad muscle covering your thigh. “Put your hands behind your head, and don’t move them.”

You do as you’re told without thinking, finding yourself so aroused by the bossiness.

“Fuck, you are totally soaking. Is that all for me?” the smug tone in his voice should be a turn-off. It's the exact opposite; it's like he knows before you do what will turn you into putty.

His kiss is plundering as he teases your bud unhurriedly, with only his middle finger. The room seems too hot, your dress too tight, and he is engulfing all your senses. It's his scent that gets you the most; it actually makes your mouth water even as he kisses you. You probably should be ashamed of everything your body is doing - overheating, salivating, honeying his fingers - but you don't even have the presence of mind to think about it.

As he pulls away, he shushes when you go to open your mouth, the finger of his other hand resting across your tingling lips in a missive to keep quiet.

“You don't want someone to hear us and interrupt us, do you?” his voice silky.

He has an excellent point there. You would prefer no one disturbs anything he is doing or planning to do to you. You shake your head slightly, and he smirks at you.

“Good girl.”

Oh, fucking hell.

Add that to the list of things you had no idea would send you at breakneck speed to an almost painful level of arousal. Yet still, just that one finger strokes slowly over your clit, almost in time with the beat of the mellow music leaking under the doorway from the party below.

“More, Ben, please,” you plead in a whisper.

“Hmm, not yet,” he opines, and his lips land on your throat, “don't be in such a hurry.”

You don’t know what to say to that. It’s evident as he sucks on the sensitive skin there that he is taking complete control of your body, pleasure, and orgasm, and somehow it’s everything you need that you’ve never thought to ask of anyone.

When his finger is suddenly gone, you fight the impulse to whine. But then his hands are at your hips, tugging down your underwear, drawing them down your legs and flinging them across the room, and you decide that is more than acceptable.

“Next time I tell you to take off your knickers, and you defy me, I’m ripping them,” he lectures, and there is so much to unpack there. Mostly it’s the words ‘next time’ echoing around your skull.

All you do is nod, dumbfounded, rapidly sinking into a space where you are just reactive, your brain quieting for once, your body and sensation taking over, instinctual and primal. You watch, biting your lip, as Benedict snakes down your body, gathering your dress up over your belly and throwing your knees over his shoulders.

“Now, let's prove you wrong, shall we?” he smirks, shooting you a heated look as your thighs frame his handsome face.

He turns his head and kisses up the inside of your thigh to your knee. Using his tongue to suck your flesh into his mouth, slowly working his way back down towards your centre, little fires erupting where he drags his mouth. Just as he gets so close you can feel his breath on your clit, and you tense in anticipation, he skips and starts at your other knee, working his way back down with teasing suckling motion, almost biting the skin of your inner thighs as he goes. Your skin feels tingly everywhere his lips have touched, the unhurried pace taking you by surprise. He was so quick to get between your legs you figured it would all be brief. But no, he is taking his time, luxuriating in the tease.

“Ben….” his name a soft exhale over your lips, almost unconscious, a reflex. The curl of his cheeks against your skin as he smiles in response is intoxicating. Your hands itch to move from behind your head, to grab him and push his face where you want him the most.

His breath is hot on your throbbing clit before he slowly buries his face into your body, opening your folds with his tongue and making a long heavy swipe up through your soaked channel to your clit, moaning as he does so. No one has been this engaged with your body before; it’s always been tentative, making you a little on edge that perhaps their enjoyment was not there. You are left in no doubt how much Benedict enjoys it, his tongue lapping up your taste decadently, engaging his whole face, chin pressing on your entrance as he ploughs his tongue in unhurriedly undulating waves over your clit, knowing precisely where to hit.

“Oh my g….” your words dying off as strong arms wrap around your hips, hands grasp your inner thighs and force them obscenely wide.

He is feasting on your body, giving long, soft strokes with the flat of his tongue, gently parting your labia, sucking them softly into his searing mouth, tugging down just a little, so you sense the pull around your clit. Spreading his mouth wide over your clit hood and sucking and swirling until you feel something so intense you want to clamp your thighs hard around his ears, but he senses the motion, and his arms band harder, keeping you open to his onslaught.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and it vibrates all the way inside you, up into your belly. “Now we are getting somewhere; your little clit is all erect now,” he rumbles, and you feel yourself blushing at his words; something indeed is swollen and distended under his ministrations. He wetly swirls his tongue under the hood, and there is a sudden stab of something mind-bending.

“There it is.”

“Please, Ben, oh god, please, please,” you squeak, practically begging him. No one has done this to you, taken command in such a self-assured but vigorous way. You've also never begged for anything before.

“I know, I know,” he assures, the fingertips of one hand stretching upwards to caress the soft skin of your belly, “it’s coming, I promise, just a little while longer.”

He moves lower to tease your pussy with his tongue, just nudging the bridge of his nose rhythmically against your pulsing clit. Not quite enough to build more sensation, just enough to keep you strung out on a high where your whole body is quaking, overwrought and sensitive—your skin prickling hot.

You whine his name, disobeying his instruction and sliding a hand into his hair and gripping the chestnut thatch, pulling him back up slightly, and he chuckles, moving back to your clit, his tongue unfurling in a rolling wave.

“Okay, I get the hint,” he laughs deeply, and one arm unfurls from around your thigh, a finger tracing a line around your opening. “And put your hand back where it belongs, you cheeky minx.” You do so immediately.

There is an almost obscene squelching sound as he buries two fingers into you, followed by your cry at the slender but deep invasion.

“Fucking hell….” you can’t help the curse slipping unbidden from your lips, something about the moment being as transcendent as it is purely carnal.

You can feel the swell of his knuckles pressing on your walls, and it feels so wonderful you squeeze onto his fingers on instinct. His responding growl makes your blood race.

“Every person you’ve ever been with is a fool,” he declares heatedly. “How could they not want to make this delightful little cunt come over and over? My god, your grip, the heat, the taste. I could get lost in you for days,” his voice is decadent like dark chocolate, and again your cheeks heat at his unabashed turn of phrase.

He surges up over your body, fingers still inside you, and his mouth lands on yours, your own taste so strong on his lips. That talented tongue sparring with yours as the fingers pulse gently, hitting a spot you have never reached before. You break the kiss to moan and stare at him wide-eyed and panting quietly.

“You haven’t found this before, have you?” he guesses correctly, and you shake your head, unable to form words.

“Oh, my darling girl,” he rumbles possessively, “it’s criminal how badly you have been treated. I feel like I’m fingering a virgin, and by god, I wish I had been your first. I feel an overwhelming need to show you everything you’ve been missing out on.”

“Please,” you gasp, and it’s a petition for everything.

He huffs an alluring laugh over your cheek and kisses down your neck—a warm slide of lips and tongue until he is at the top of your dress. The hand not inside you yanks down the material, and suddenly your nipple is sucked hard into his wet hot mouth. You cry his name, uncaring if anyone hears you. Just strung out on the sensation of his fingers massaging inside your pussy, his mouth suckling on your nipple as your neglected engorged clit pulsates so strong, syncopated with your heartbeat. You know, without a shadow of a doubt, this is some plot to systemically destroy you. Make you mindless with need. Desperate for some relief, you move one hand from behind your head and slide it between your legs.

“Nuh-uh,” a warm solid hand encircles your wrist and pulls it away before you can make contact, manhandling your arm back to where it was. “Do I have to tie your hands above your damn head?” He questions fiercely, biting your nipple lightly and making you keen, but his eyes are sparkling with mirth as he meets your gaze, looking up from your chest.

You fold your lips into your mouth, showing remorse, and he chuckles richly.

“Good girl. Now, why are you in such a rush? Do you have any idea how much better it is if you just go slow? Let your body build up to something. I will edge you all night if you keep being so damn unruly.” It’s the sexiest reprimand you’ve ever been given, and you can’t decide if that sounds like utter torture or the best thing ever. Probably both.

Something approaching triumph surges in your veins as he slinks down your body again, shooting you a devastating crooked smile as he settles between your legs. He sucks your thrumming clit hard into his mouth, brushing the edge of his teeth over the nub, and you have to rapidly grab a pillow to muffle the holler you make. It's loud and gutsy from somewhere deep inside your belly. The tension as he teased you elsewhere is now laser-focused on where he consumes you, drinking from you, dragging the crudest sensations and noises from your core. Something about it seems so feral on both your parts.

All of his efforts and all of your attention narrow to the fingers inside you, stroking and massaging and his sinful mouth wreaking the most beautiful havoc. Rapidly spiralling you higher, your entire being trembling as you burble nonsense, feeling fit to burst. Almost scared of letting go of the tight hold you have over this swell of something almost alarming inside you.

“Come on, my good, darling girl, show me what you can do when you lose control,” he encourages, and you stop fighting. Stop fighting the tide crashing over you, and relax into the wave of pleasure engulfing your every sense.

Your pussy convulses forcefully, clamping his fingers, attempting to push them out. Wetness gushing out of you, flooding against his face. An invisible cord holding every muscle in your body taut snaps, and you feel a resulting pulse of euphoria chase into every cell and synapse. Everything sounds so far away as you float somewhere that is both rooted deep within and far from your body. Your very being is seemingly fracturing and reassembling.

Gradually you return to the room. As you lay there, breathless and staring at your still somewhat unfamiliar bedroom ceiling, you catalogue that it's not the only thing foreign to you. This bone-deep sated feeling you’ve never experienced before makes you both invigorated and languid, blotting the sharp edges of your conscience. You want to curl up and rest, but simultaneously the urge to clamber on top of him and demand an encore performance. He has moved at some point, so he now lies next to you on the bed. Your head lolls to the side, and you realise he is observing you with a wry smile. Something in his countenance has changed; it's not the authoritarian he was while he was pleasuring you; it's the charming benign Ben you’ve always known, his hazy blue eyes soft with understanding.

“That was….” you can't even form a sentence, just catch your swollen, flushed lips between your teeth and mime an explosion around your head.

He giggles and delicately trails a finger over your dress, sweetly rearranging your neckline to its original position.

“If there's one thing I know, it’s that smart, capable women who run everything in their lives so fucking well sometimes want to switch their brain off and be told what to do. Be allowed a break from being in charge, just until that orgasm hits. I took an educated guess,” he shrugs modestly with a winning smile.

Suddenly everything about what transpired makes total sense. He knew you would never ask for what happened, but by god, you needed it, craved it, and never even knew it. That he could intuit your needs says so much about him, about what he knows of you; it gives you a warm bloom in your chest that feels dangerously close to something profound and startling. That seems like a dangerous path to let your thoughts wander down, and besides, a delicious man is lying right next to you who has given you so much, yet you have offered nothing in return. You decide every cell in your being wants to rectify that immediately.

“What about you…?” you run a hand down his shirt, enjoying the contours under it, allowing your hand to splay lightly over the tantalisingly prominent bulge in his well-fitted expensive-looking jeans.

“This wasn't about me; this was about a gift for you,” he smiles, grabbing your hand away from his cock and kissing your knuckles in a romantic gesture. “I’ll be fine; I just need to perhaps not be in your company for a few minutes,” he quips flatteringly.

“I could help, you know?” you offer softly, twisting more towards him.

“Really, it's not necessary. Go enjoy your party,” he responds, but you can see his resolve wavering as you raise an eyebrow and climb on top of him.

“Are you very sure about that, Mr Bridgerton?” you query with an intentionally husky tone.

His face is a picture, and his groan is hungry as you deliberately press your naked pelvis over the swell of denim and rock back and forth, the harsh seam of his fly catching your clit and igniting your lust again. The tiny ‘no’ he exhales is music to your ears—so many revelations in one evening.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader

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64yrsold · 1 year

Text

she’s american

“Almost done,” I grumbled to myself, stirring the pasta on the stove furiously.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, checking to see if he had answered any of my messages.

“Fuck!” I cursed, reading his sweet reply telling me he’d be home in five minutes. I scrambled to set the table, lighting candles and smoothing the tablecloth. I gulped down a stinging sip of my mostly-booze test cocktail, dusting off my apron and straightening the skirt of my dress. I poured him my modified cocktail recipe, and admired the romantic scene I had created.

“He’d better like this,” I muttered, slipping on a pair of heels while preparing him a serving of pasta. He had been working non-stop this week, returning home after dark, exhausted.

“I’m just going to sit for five minutes, then you can tell me about your day,” He had said yesterday, and promptly fell asleep on the couch.

So, in an attempt to cheer him up, I had gotten ridiculously gorgeous, and spent the evening in front of a hot stove, trying my hand at penne in vodka sauce.

The doorknob jiggled as he unlocked it, and I put on my most welcoming smile. He swung the door open, mouth parted as he took in the sight of me.

“Is it my birthday?” He smirked, kicking the door closed with his eyes locked on mine.

“If you’d like,” I said, drawing out the sultry undertones of my voice.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, grasping for my wrists and pulling me against his chest. He kissed me softly, and I sunk into the familiar feeling. “Hi, darling.” He murmured against my mouth, heart thrumming against me.

“Miss me today?” I teased, pulling away from his lips reluctantly. His forehead creased, and he planted three quick kisses on my cheek.

“You consumed me today,” He professed, watching me with darkened eyes. “You look absolutely, insanely gorgeous.”

I grinned, biting my lip at his compliment. “You should look behind me.”

“All of this for me!” He gasped, “Are you trying to get me naked, or something?”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, and handed him his drink.

“Ooh, thank you, darling,” he said, taking a sip. “Mm, very nice. Have you been drinking these all night?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, alright,” he said, pleased, and tilted his head back, finishing the glass. He glanced behind me, spotting the half-empty bottle of vodka. “Shit, I have a ways to go.”

“No, no, I didn’t drink all of it,” I giggled, pointing at the pasta. “It’s a vodka sauce.”

“You put-“ He cleared his throat, “Sorry, just wondering, did you put half a bottle of vodka in the sauce?”

“It’s a vodka sauce,” I repeated monotonously, and he nodded slowly.

“Alright. Let’s give it a shot.” He pulled out a chair for me, “For my lady,” He bowed gracefully. I hit his shoulder with the back of my hand gently, and sat down. He pushed me in, and then sat across from me.

“Okay, you try it first,” I rubbed my hands together, anxiously awaiting his review.

“You haven’t tried it?” He asked slowly, pausing.

“No, of course not!” I shook my head, fork in hand.

“Right, of course not.” He held a hand out, “Best to save the first bite for the guest.” He stabbed at the pasta, preparing for a large first taste. He made a show of opening his mouth wide, one eyebrow pricking up as the food hit his tongue. He chewed quickly, and I saw him shudder as he swallowed. “So good,” He said, taking a swig of water.

My mouth hung open. “You liar.”

“No! No, darling, I love it!” He persisted, loading up another bite onto his fork. “It’s so… Wow,” He waved a hand. He moaned into his second bite, wincing slightly.

I buried my face in my hands, then quickly shovelled a forkful of the pasta into my mouth. I slapped my hands over my mouth, forcing myself to swallow.

“What the fuck,” I coughed, “That was like a shot!”

Both his hands covered his face as he tried to hold in his laughter, shoulders shaking and face turning red.

“You’ve been plotting to get me drunk all day, haven’t you?” He accused, reaching for my glass and downing it. “You could just ask, sweetheart. I’d never decline a night in bed with you.”

“Fuck, I really tried,” I sighed, laughing softly from exhaustion and embarrassment, “God, I’m sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” He said, picking up his plate. “I told you, this is really, really quite nice.” He brought the edge of the plate to his lips, and began scraping the pasta into his mouth.

“Wait! No, no, don’t do that!” I shrieked, reaching across the table to grab at the plate.

“Mmm,” was all he could say, mouth full of pasta as he stood up and out of my reach. He nodded enthusiastically, a few noodles dropping onto his white shirt and plopping onto the floor.

I clutched at my chest, gasping between laughs.

“Stop, stop,” I squeaked, and his orange mouth grinned, showing off his empty plate.

“Loved it,” he said, voice muffled as he chewed, “Love you.”

#i can’t fucking cook #matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #Spotify

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underoospeterparker · 5 months

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hii can i get a 🍩 for your celebration? :)

first of all i love arts and fashion. i love drawing realistic face portraits,,, i put effort into my outfit- like i won't go out without a least putting decent clothes. i think i'm kind (idk im not one to say but i think yeah). i consider myself understanding and i'm a good listener. <3 that's all thank you so much!! congrats on the milestone you deserve it 🫧🫧

welcome to my 300 celebration! thanks for requesting lovely!

i ship you with remus lupin! @dwindlinghaze

a. drawing a portrait of him;

You'd admitted to him that you wanted to draw him sometime, and he'd never let it go. He'd talked about it so much that one day, you finally decided to do it. "You promise to sit still?" you asked, double checking with your setup, thinking you were missing something, before Remus passed you your pencil. "Yes," he sighed. You knew it was a big ask, because Remus was generally a very fidgety person. "Promise." You reached your pinky out, and your boyfriend returned the gesture. His grin was so wide that you thought that you would paint him a hundred times over if it meant he would smile at you like that again.

b. having trouble deciding what to wear;

"Remus," you whined, clearly agitated. Your boyfriend caught on easily, looking over at you from the top of his book. "Yes, sweetheart?" he responded, tone always patient with you. "Doing okay?" You looked like you were about to cry. "I can't figure out what to wear," you admitted tearily. He set his book down on the bedside and crossed to the closet into two strides, pulling you into his arms as he did so. "In my opinion," he started saying, "you look gorgeous in absolutely everything." You let out a wet giggle, pulling away from him slightly to meet his eyes. "So you're okay with me wearing my pyjamas out to dinner?" He stared at you back in the eyes, then murmured a soft, "yes." You rolled your eyes, detaching yourself from his body before heading back in the direction of your clothes. "Never gonna do that."

c. just listening to him talk;

You were lying with your head in his lap, content just listening to him ramble to you about his day. His fingers mindlessly played with your hair, twirling your locks around a finger before letting go and finding another strand to play with. "So, yeah, I had a pretty good day, thanks for asking, sweetheart," he finished, looking down at you. Your head was smushed against his thigh, and the way you were looking at him now made him want to tuck you away from the rest of the world, no matter how selfish the notion was. "How was yours?" "It was okay," you responded, giving him a small smile. "Better now that you're here."

#remus lupin x reader #remus fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #the marauders #300 celebration #300 followers #follower milestone

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corrodedseraphine · 11 months

Text

have mercy on me | #4 before you go

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

chapter summary: When your emotions calm down you realize how much you miss him but Eddie always disappears before you can take any step. All this time, he has been the one trying to do everything to keep your paths from parting permanently, but now it's your turn to take matters into your own hands.

the story is also avaliable on ao3

previous chapter | masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

Here we are! The end! At first I didn't expect that so many people would be interested in this story, you don't even know how your interactions with it make me feel happy. Thank you all so much, for every, even the smallest gesture showing your support! I hope you will enjoy this ending!

Unworthy. You would never think you would hate a word. You hated the sound of his voice when he said it. So broken. So weak. Lost in your own pain, it didn't even cross your mind that the always smiling Eddie could in fact be his own greatest tormentor. He punished himself far more than you did. He didn't need you at all to make him realize how big a mistake he had made.

You thought about what was before all this. Did he think of himself that way then, too? Did he hate himself so much already then that he thought he didn't deserve anything good? Did he think of himself as someone worthless even at that time? Why did he never say anything? Why did you never even allow yourself to think that he was his own worst enemy?

You felt terrible. You failed him. You failed as the friend you thought you were for so long, and that hurt even more than your broken heart.

From the moment of your conversation, Eddie disappeared completely from your life. There were no more notes, cookies or funny riddles and silly attempts to make you smile. He hardly ever showed up at school, and if he did he kept to the shadows, not wanting to draw anyone's attention to himself. Everyone was shocked when, for another week in a row, no one heard the loud speeches made on the cafeteria table or the insults hurled at Jason and his gang. Eddie Munson's flame was extinguished, leaving behind only a soft gray smoke.

When your first performance was a success and people loved you, you were invited to The Soul stage more often. Each time you could see his pale face with watered eyes at the end of the hall at a table in the corner. Nevertheless, when you glanced there while singing there was always a gentle, slightly sad smile on his face, and whenever you saw it something clenched at your heart.

You missed him. Day by day you were more and more sure that the pain he caused you then was no match for the one you feel when he is not in your life. The void he left behind is like a dark abyss from which there is no way out. Every day you thought about all this. After countless conversations with Robin, you decided to believe him that everything was over between him and Chrissy, Steve, on his part, thought you should give him a chance to at least try to make things right. That was the end of your self-pity. Both of you have suffered a lot through this situation and it's time to end it. It was time to fight for at least a little happiness in your lives.

You were just finishing the last song when you looked into the corner of the room. He was still sitting there with the same smile as always. This time you tried to make eye contact, from which he did not escape. Taking a deep breath without announcement, you began to play the melody of the new song.

I fell by the wayside, like everyone else I hate you, I hate you, I hate you But I was just kidding myself Our every moment, I start to replace 'Cause now that they're gone All I hear are the words that I needed to say

When you hurt under the surface Like troubled water running cold Well, time can heal, but this won't

So, before you go Was there something I could've said To make your heart beat better? If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather So, before you go Was there something I could've said To make it all stop hurting? It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless So, before you go

Was never the right time, whenever you called Went little, by little, by little until there was nothing at all Our every moment, I start to replay But all I can think about is seeing that look on your face

When you hurt under the surface Like troubled water running cold Well, time can heal, but this won't

So, before you go Was there something I could've said To make your heart beat better? If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather

So, before you go Was there something I could've said To make it all stop hurting? It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless So, before you go

Would we be better off by now If I'd let my walls come down? Maybe, I guess we'll never know You know, you know

Before you go Was there something I could've said To make your heart beat better? If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather So, before you go Was there something I could've said To make it all stop hurting? It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless So, before you go

You felt powerless. You couldn't force him to start appearing in your life again, apparently he didn't want that. Maybe he realized that he didn't really want you that way? You wanted to accept that your path together had come to an end, but you couldn't. Eddie Munson was a part of your heart, and you still hoped he hadn't given up. All this time you were afraid to take the first step even though you knew you should. You knew that in some way you should show that you missed him, that you didn't want him to give up on you, but you couldn't. All these weeks you were blocked, but tonight you hoped that he would understand the message. That he would understand that even though there is a gap between you, you might be able to build a bridge. You wanted him to understand how bad you felt about not noticing his self-destructive thoughts poisoning his perspective on himself and those around him. You hoped that tonight you would be able to talk before he left.

You didn't. After the show was over, you quickly left the stage, but he was no longer at the table, as always. He always disappeared when you finished playing. You ran outside the building hoping to catch him, but it was too late. He was gone. Eddie Munson disappeared from your life, at your own request leaving a burden and regret on your heart.

"Y/n I'm begging you, you have to talk to me because I'm about to go crazy." said Robin entering your room together with Steve. "Help us understand you!"

"How can I help you if I don't understand myself?!" This was one of the moments when you couldn't stand yourself. When you wanted at least for a few hours to become someone else entirely, or just like that, to disappear and be reborn. "At first I hated him for what he did, I couldn't look at him! It hurt so much when he chose her over me! Then- Then I started to miss him, and he did everything so that I wouldn't forget him, and it worked, because I couldn't, I still can't! When I finally dealt with my stupid broken heart and realized that some part of me wanted to forgive him and wanted him back he said all those things that opened my eyes, Robin. He suffered all the time, probably much more than I did, because while I was thinking about how I didn't deserve to be treated this way he was telling himself all the time that he deserved everything worst!" that sentence by sentence you spoke faster and faster, you could hardly catch your breath. "He went back to her because he thought this was the love he deserved. It wasn't even love! She treated him like trash and he thought that was the best thing that could happen to him? Holy shit how could I have missed all this? How could I be so blind?"

"Hey, don't blame yourself for that, none of us knew. He hid the whole thing too well." said Steve sitting down next to you on the bed. "He was scared of what you were able to give him. For the first time in his entire life, he found someone who wasn't ashamed of him. Someone who loved him back and that scared him."

"Do you think that he loved me?" you asked quietly.

"Of course he did! How could he not?" Robin said, sitting down on the other side. "He got scared and chose the worst possible option. No matter how much I want to strangle him for causing you all this pain, I will hardly admit that dingus is right. He deserves a chance to explain himself and try to make things right."

"But he doesn't even want a second chance anymore! He's made up his mind, I can't force him to start caring again!" you grabbed a pillow and hid your face in it.

"You're not going to suffocate yourself on my watch." Steve said snatching the pillow out of your hand.

"Last time after the show I wanted to talk to him, I really wanted to make the first move but before I could get off the stage he was gone. I don't understand how from the point where I couldn't look at him now I can't stand knowing he's not with me. I feel like a psycho."

"Maybe you never really wanted him to leave? He hurt you, and that's why your emotions were running through you, now that they've calmed down a bit you just miss him."

"You're not crazy, you're just in love, and that sometimes makes a person the biggest weirdo in the world." Robin laughed lightly while resting her head on your shoulder.

"What should I do now?" you sighed leaning your head against hers.

"All this time he's been the one taking the initiative, maybe it's time for you to do it?" suggested Steve.

"But how? I can't just walk up to him at school, I have no idea how this is all going to end, and drama in front of everyone is the last thing I need. Going to his trailer is also out...It would be too much. It would feel like I was invading his safety zone."

"I have an idea." Robin stood up. "As far as not being a big fan of such events," she rolled her eyes. "I'm able to make an exception for you. There's a big party tomorrow at Lucy Moore's house, a big house full of kids who have pockets stuffed with their parents' money, Eddie definitely won't pass up the opportunity to enrich himself."

"It's a really good idea, even if things don't go too well everyone around will be too drunk or high to register anything, besides, Robin and I will be around."

"I don't know..." you said uncertainly. Is a party where most of the school will be there a good idea? Not really. But did you have any better? Of course not.

When you arrived the party was already in full swing, with hardly anyone paying attention to you, for which you were grateful. Some people were dancing in the living room, others were playing beer pong or arranging competitions in who would drink more, others were making out on the stairs, the couch and other available places in the house. Typical. You and your friends headed toward the kitchen to pour yourself something to drink hoping that the alcohol would loosen you up a bit and help you overcome the paralyzing fear you felt at the very thought of confronting him.

Time passed, and you didn't feel the slightest bit more confident. You had already had two drinks and were just about to start a third, just watching him walk down the hallway from time to time, come out of the bathroom or enter the room with one of the members of the basketball team, who after a while contentedly came out and stuffed something in his pocket. Noticing him going out into the garden you walked away from Robin and went in the same direction. You've got this. Repeating these words in your mind you took one last gulp and stepped outside.

The cold wind was a shock to you compared to the heat that was inside. You noticed him sitting on a plastic chair with his head raised toward the sky. Slowly approaching him you sat down near the chair on the grass without a word. Trying to find the right words to start a conversation, you began to open your mouth only to close it immediately. Eddie registered your presence yet still did not take his eyes off the stars, afraid that this conversation might end like the previous ones. Nothing more than pain and tears. Both of you were sick of it.

"How drunk are you?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence.

"Three drinks." you answered quietly.

"One more and your inner dancer will wake up." he chuckled. Whenever you drank together he joked that around the fourth drink you always wanted to dance.

"I want to talk to you Eddie." you changed the subject. "I want to talk to you, but I have no idea what to say, where to start."

Finally he looked at you, sitting with your legs crossed on the grass in the moonlight and garden lights you looked beautiful. Almost to the point of being unreal. It seemed unreal that you had come here to talk to him. But even if it was just a product of his imagination to cope with a broken heart he decided to surrender to it. He got up from his chair and sat down next to you, so that your knees were touching.

"I love you." he said knocking you out of rhythm.

"W-what?" The shock on your face didn't surprise him. He himself didn't expect that today would be the first time he would tell you such a thing.

"I realized that in all this time I haven't told you this once. And you should know it. You should also know that it was thanks to you that I understood what love is and what it should look like. Without looking at how things ended between us, the fact that it hurts so much at least reminds us that it was real, doesn't it?" He turned his face toward you. He was so close, at your fingertips. He was weak. He was weak when your eyes shone more beautifully than the sky above you, when a strand of hair fell charmingly on your face, when your lips looked so delicately beautiful, when your scent which he had not smelled for so long crept into his system intoxicating him. He felt helpless. He missed you so much, craved your presence so much, couldn't help himself when he finally had you so close to him. No wonder this confession escaped from his lips. As soon as he felt your proximity all defense mechanisms shut down leaving his heart unprotected, if you decide to tear it apart - he will let you. Now only lovesick feeling for you controlled him.

He slowly raised his hand to push a strand of hair away from your face. It was just an excuse for his fingers to gently brush your skin. You stared at him with slightly parted lips. Your gaze wandered from his eyes to his lips and back again. "I really love you y/n..." he whispered. He didn't expect any response or reaction from you, but under the excitement you brought your face closer to his by resting your foreheads against each other. His hand stopped on your cheek, which he stroked with his thumb. One more step forward. One more step. You thought. You wanted it. You wanted his closeness, you needed it. At that moment, nothing else mattered to you but that one tiny step forward. Before you go, Eddie. Before the cruel reality catches up with you. As if reading your mind, Eddie took a deep breath and his hand moved from your cheek to under your chin. He slowly lifted it with his finger and... And just when you thought that this one step forward was taken and the gap between you would disappear you heard the door slam and you jumped away from each other.

"What the fuck Eddie?!" It was Chrissy. "An hour ago you were fucking me in the bathroom and now you're kissing her in the garden? What is wrong with you?!" Her words were like a powerful punch in the stomach. Confused, you started to get up from the ground looking between the two of them. Eddie got up right behind you.

"She's lying, I haven't had a single word with her all evening! You have to trust me!" he began to explain. He couldn't believe what was happening.

"You asshole!" She walked towards him, and slapped him in the face. He looked at her in disbelief while holding his sore cheek. How far could she go to destroy him?

"I- I need a minute." You said and quickly went back to the house.

"What the hell was that?" he shouted. His nerves were racing, he was unable to stay calm in this situation. Once again, he had lost you. Once again because of her.

"I didn't say a word to you all evening! Why did you lie, why did you do it?!" He didn't care that someone might hear him.

"I told you that you would regret it." she said looking at his desperate face with a victorious smile on her lips.

"You fucking-"

"Go away Chrissy." Steve's voice suddenly reached them. She just shrugged her shoulders and went back inside slamming the door behind her.

"I didn't do it! damn it I've been avoiding her like hell all evening! I didn't do anything, you have to believe me!" Panicky he couldn't control the storm that was building up inside him. "Fuck!" he yelled, hitting the wall of the house with his fist. The pain in his hand was still nothing.

"I know!" Steve shouted back. "I heard everything, when y/n ran out she didn't close the door behind her, I know you didn't do anything!"

"But she doesn't know that! She won't believe me again, and it was so close, for a second I thought that maybe... that maybe it can still be fixed." He slumped against the wall burying his face in his hands. He didn't care about anything anymore. He crumbled into pieces that could not be picked up.

"But she'll find out, I'll tell her, I'm on your side Eddie." Steve crouched in front of him putting a hand on his shoulder wanting to give him comfort.

"How many times do I have to watch her slipping through my fingers, Steve?" he cried. "How many ficking times? I can't stand it anymore. I love her. I love her, and watching her walk away every time kills me. I can't stand it anymore!" If anyone had told him that he would ever cry his heart out in front of King Steve he would have laughed at him. He would have said that he would rather die than let someone like Steve see his tears. It seemed even crazier that King Steve would comfort him. But here they were. In a situation no one would ever believe.

"Try to calm down okay? And wait here. Just wait." Harrington quickly got up and rushed toward the door.

You and Robin were standing by the car.

"Thank God you're here." Robin said as he ran up to you.

"She lied. You have to go back there, nothing happened between him and Chrissy, I heard everything, I heard her admitting it." he said on one exhale.

"But..." you started.

"Go!" Robin didn't let you finish your sentence. "Just go there!"

You immediately ran into the garden looking everywhere. It was empty. You entered the house and searched every possible room, unfortunately without success. Once again, he disappeared.

He was right. What he felt when Chrissy first broke his heart was nothing compared to how he felt now. Everything was once again falling into ruins. It crushed him to the ground and he no longer had the strength to even try to stand up. There was no point in trying to fight the merciless waves. He resigned himself to it and let the water slowly flood his lungs as he slowly and calmly sank to the bottom, where he thought his place was. He didn't leave his room for the next two days, unless necessary. Eating, listening to music and sleeping. These three activities were repeated over and over again, feeling pure hate for himself. He completely didn't expect what happened on the third day.

Wayne was just getting ready to leave for work when he heard a knock on the door. Surprised, he stared at the skinny girl standing on the stairs with an awkward smile.

"Can I help you?" he tried to recall all of Eddie's friends but couldn't recall a freckled face anywhere. A thought flashed through his head whether it was Chrissy. He was even more surprised when behind her back he saw an insanely expensive BMW belonging to Harrington.

"Good evening Sir! My name is Robin, I'm a y/n's friend." she explained seeing his still puzzled expression. The old man was relieved to hear that it wasn't Chrissy.

"What's wrong?"

"Could you please give this to Eddie?" she said pulling a walkman and cassette from her bag. Wayne just sighed moving his gaze from the object to the car. How much longer will you avoid the conversation? Should he really interject? He slowly found it hard to stand seeing his nephew in such a mess anymore. "Is she here?" he finally asked.

"Y-yeah, in the car."

"Can I talk to her?"

"I guess."

The man put on his shoes and with a slow step he and Robin approached the car. At the mere sight of Wayne you felt your palms sweating from nerves. Was he here to tell you to stay away from Eddie?

"Nice to see you." he said, smiling slightly as you got out of the car.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here and sent Robin, it was stupid..." you said feeling increasingly embarrassed by your idea.

"You're right, sending your friend was not a good idea." he nodded causing you to feel even worse. "But it's good that you are here." Your surprised look made him chuckle. "Listen kid, whatever happened between you two...I know it's hard, but seriously I think whatever is on that tape he should get it from you."

"He doesn't want to see me." you said quietly staring at the ground.

"Did he tell you that?"

"No, but-"

"No buts. If he didn't tell you that you should at least try. Come on. Your friends can wait in the living room."

"No, we'll wait in the car." Robin said quickly. "Go." She handed you a walkman and the tape.

With small steps you followed Wayne to the trailer feeling the bundle of nerves in your stomach clench much tighter the closer you got. When Wayne knocked on the door of Eddie's room you felt like you were going to faint.

"You have a guest, son." he said.

"Tell them I'm not here." Eddie muttered into the pillow lying with his back toward the door.

"Come on kid, at least see who came." Wayne was adamant.

"I don't feel like talking to ANYONE," he replied annoyed. "Whoever it is and whatever they want must wait." He covered himself with a blanket.

"She can't wait and she won't wait." He did not let up on his nephew's childish behavior. "I'm letting her into your room right now."

Before Eddie had time to react in any way you stepped uncertainly into the room and Wayne closed the door behind you. Nothing had changed since the last time you were here. You turned your attention to the small framed photo that stood on the nightstand next to his bed, at the sight of it you felt a sting in your heart. You were so happy then, and now you felt even desperate to get that happiness back.

Your breathing became more and more uneven and loud. You clenched your hands around the objects in them until your knuckles turned white.

"Eddie." Your voice was tiny, shaking with insecurity and despair.

You were the last person he expected to be here. With a quick movement, he pulled the blanket off himself and sat down on the bed, turning so that he was facing you. "What are you doing here?" he asked. You couldn't figure out what was hiding behind the tone of his voice.

"I'm sorry." you replied. "I wanted to give you something, I know you don't want to see me anymore, but I thought you might want to listen." You stretched your shaking hands out in front of you.

He took the tape from you, which he immediately put into the walkman looking at you with questioning eyes. "I'm not supposed to be here...but your uncle convinced me that I should tell you this in person. Maybe even tell you straight to your eyes everything what's on the tape..." the lump in your throat grew. "Or maybe I should go now, sorry. You don't have to listen to it if you don't want to, you can just throw it out right away." You turned toward the door.

"Stay." You couldn't read any emotion in his voice, it scared you. "Please." His big dark eyes rested on you with a pleading gaze.

He put on the headphones yet did not dare to click play. He had no idea what to expect there, and from your behavior all he could infer was that you were nervous. Preparing himself mentally for the next punch, he took a deep breath and looked in your direction. You stood against the wall without taking your eyes off him. For the first time in his life he saw you so unsure of yourself, nervously plucking the cuticles around your nails as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. "Wanna sit down?" he asked. You slowly walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it and began nervously shaking your leg. You always did that when you were nervous, he wanted to put his hand on your knee as he used to do at such moments but this time he had to restrain himself. He still didn't know what he was about to hear. Finally, he pressed the button.

"Eddie, first of all I'd like to apologize for doing it this way, but I don't know if we'll ever have a chance to talk again, and I still have some things to say. Every time I try to make this move you disappear, so this time I ask you to listen, before you go." He stared blankly at the carpet. "You hurt me. But I also failed you, I failed you as a friend because I never noticed what was happening to you, the fact that you could barely handle yourself. I want to apologize to you for that. I hope you can forgive me someday." He pressed his lips into a thin line and closed his eyes. Once again, he felt himself falling apart, but he wanted to hold back the tears. "Our situation is difficult. But after these weeks, I know that I can't stand it when you are not in my life. I can't explain it, I don't understand myself, I don't know what do I want, I feel insane, but one thing I am sure of..." there was a long pause in the recording. "I love you, too. I should have answered you right away, but I would never have expected to hear them from your mouth. I believe that everything is over between you and Chrissy, I'm ready to believe you will never hurt me like that again, and I'm ready to fight to rebuild the happiness we had. Of course, if you want it too. I believe that the two of us can do it. Now, if you haven't had enough of listening to me, this is not the end of my message, thank you for getting to this point." Then the first sounds of the piano sounded.

You were the raging storm that wrecked A beautiful mind I can't forget Knew from the moment that we met I'd take you home But now that the future's so unclear Have all of your feelings disappeared? 'Cause I'm in no kind of frame of mind to let you go

Hope, have you some that I can borrow? 'Cause I've been so low And the weight of all the world's a heavy load Keep me going 'til tomorrow 'Cause I just don't know If I can face another day alone

Well, my lungs don't breathe And my heart don't beat And I can't believe in any kind of life without you here And I can't move on 'Cause it feels so wrong No, I just don't want any kind of life without you, dear

Are there any words that I could say? I'm feeling our moment fade away In a matter of hours, we'll be drowning in the waves And all of the memories that we shaped We're leaving behind here in my wake If we can save the good we gave, we shouldn't wait

Hope, have you some that I can borrow? 'Cause I just don't know If I can face another day alone

Now you're not here, I can't explain The carousel of my constant pain I'm not sure that I can hold on anymore Became a victim of circumstance Should have said when I had the chance I don't want any kind of life without you here

"I still want you in my life Eddie. I need you, so if you only want to, if you only let me...Maybe we can put it all together."

Silence. A painful silence fell between the two of you. Somewhere in the middle of the recording, Eddie hid his face in his hands and hasn't changed position since. Only after a while you noticed the slight movement of his shoulders and heard the quiet sniffles of his nose.

"Eddie, don't cry please." you said, unable to control your tears yourself. Did you just make everything worse? Not being able to bear it, you got up quickly and walked over to him, and then you knelt down in front of him placing your hand on his knee.

"I am so sorry, Eddie, please."

He wiped his face with the sleeve of the sweatshirt he was wearing and looked at you. Your eyes glistened with tears making them look even more beautiful.

"W-what if I hurt you again?" he asked between breaths.

"And what if I let you down or hurt you once again?" you replied wiping your tears with the top of your hand. "I've been thinking about it for days without stopping, the risk is huge, but it's worth everything that could be between us." you grasped his hand firmly. "We will still make many mistakes, but we can always learn to deal with them. Together."

Within seconds he was beside you on the floor taking you in his arms. Without thinking much you embraced him cuddling your face into his neck. "I love you." you said. He felt his neck get wet with your tears. "I love you too, so damn much." he replied squeezing you even tighter. You were now forming one big crying mess, but you didn't mind. The security and comfort the two of you now found in each other's arms was worth every tear. "I'll do my best to fix it, I promise." he muttered into your hair then kissed the top of your head. "Together."

Although the road home seemed unimaginably long, your paths merged into one again. The one that would take you together to the end of the world and one step further.

taglist: @i-me-mine @phantypurple @chrissymjstan @sidthedollface2 @bakugouswh0r3 @tlclick73 @aysheashea @1paire2vans @mmunson86 @emma77645 @obsessivelycraftygothfandomwitch

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