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dirtytomatoedwrites · 11 months

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Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader, Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering, squirting. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 9k words (Yo it took me months to write but I finally did it)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So this is an original idea I’ve had for a while now... and this is the longest fanfic I’ve ever written for a character. Who did I write this tale about Rafe motherfucking Cameron of course. HA! I may do a part 2 but we’ll see based on the response it gets. Love you all and thanks for reading and listening - there’s music in there too so if you can listen to the tracks as you read it’ll heighten the experience. 🫶 Enjoy!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Rose, elegant and poised as ever, fiddled with Ward's bowtie. It was a futile attempt to straighten it, and you wondered if the Kooks knew how ridiculous they looked, their privileged lives spent fussing over trivial things.

"Do you play?" Ward's voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. He had seen you eyeing the piano in their opulent living room before, and it was clear he suspected you had a musical inclination.

"A little," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. You didn't want to give too much away. The Kooks had a tendency to pry, and you had learned the hard way that it was better to keep your guard up.

The Camerons were pleasant enough, but like the other Kooks on Figure Eight, they didn't really care about the Pogues. You had grown up being told that Pogues were different from Kooks, but as you got older, you realized it was more complicated than that. The Kooks were narrow-minded, lacking empathy and understanding. They saw the Pogues as nothing more than servants, there to cater to their every whim. It was a toxic dynamic and one that you had learned to navigate with caution.

The key to survival on the Outer Banks was invisibility. You had learned that early on. The less you revealed about yourself, the safer you were. So you didn't tell Ward that your father had started teaching you piano before you could even walk. You didn't tell him that music was your escape, your solace, your everything.

"Well, a bit of something is better than nothing," Ward chuckled, his eyes flickering back to you. "I bought it thinking it would be nice to have music in the house that wasn't rap or pop, but you know how kids are." He chuckled again. "No one seems interested in learning how to play it. If you want to try it out, our door is always open."

The Kooks were the quintessential chameleons, expertly donning the cloak of benevolence and charity. But behind the facade lay their self-centered motives, concealed in plain sight. In their company, you had to be just as duplicitous as them, your true self lost in a sea of artifice. So you donned your own mask of deceit, feigning a grin while burying your true feelings behind a veneer of politeness.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway struck six, Rose and Mr. Cameron stepped into the warm North Carolina evening, dressed to the nines for their elegant black-tie affair. You were left behind in the kitchen with Wheezie, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing. A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Want to watch a movie, Wheezie?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

"Maybe next time? I'm having a Stranger Things watch party with my friends. We're on season three, actually," she replied as she pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Oh, that's cool. Sure, let me know when you're hungry and we'll order in."

A few minutes later, you were left alone in the kitchen, grappling with the void of the next five hours stretching before you. Your gaze was inexorably drawn to the open double doors of the living room, and a force beyond your control tugged at your heartstrings.

There, in the corner of the Camerons' living room, stood a magnificent black Steinway & Sons piano. A work of art that you had only seen in fleeting glimpses on the internet, played by virtuosos with mastery beyond compare.

The Camerons' piano was an exquisite piece. Valued upwards of forty thousand dollars, it was a show-stopper that begged to be played in a prestigious concert hall. And yet there it sat in their living room, untouched and unloved.

With a fluttering heart, you approached the baby grand piano, drawn by an unconscious force beyond your control. As you lifted the fallboard, a heady scent of wax and mahogany wafted into your nostrils, creating a longing you could barely contain. Your fingertips brushed against the smooth, pristine ivory keys, unable to resist the urge to touch. As you pressed down on one, a crystalline note filled the air, flawless and true. Before you could even think, you were seated on the bench.

Back straight and feet planted firmly on the floor, you thought about all the classical pieces you had practiced over the years and loved to play. How each piece would sound hollow on your cheap, antiquated piano in your small family home. Music was your first love, and you longed for the day to play on stage accompanied by the New York Symphony Orchestra.

Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to wander, imagining a sea of faces, a packed audience hanging on your every note. In your mind's eye, you saw your dad sitting in the front row, his gaze filled with pride and love. The thought of his reaction, a validation of all his sacrifices over the years, filled you with purpose.

Driven by your distant dream, you let your fingers glide across the keys, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of sound that flooded the Camerons' living room with music.

With meticulous attention, you listened closely to the dynamics of the piece. You noticed the way the Steinway amplified the subtlest variations in volume, imbuing the composition with a melancholic mood. Your fingers moved with practiced ease, executing intricate runs and arpeggios with fluid grace.

Enraptured by the music, you let the notes wash over you. Every facial expression was a reflection of the emotional journey unfolding before you. As the piece reached its crescendo, your fingers moved faster, striking the keys with greater force, a physical manifestation of your emotions. Your hands flowed in flawless harmony with the rhythm, pouring your soul into the music. And with the final notes, you laughed breathlessly, basking in the afterglow of your musical outpouring.

But your blissful moment was cruelly interrupted as you suddenly sensed you weren’t alone. Your eyes snapped open, and a cold wave of fear washed over you.

“Shit! I am so sorry,” you stammered, your voice trailing off in a rush of apologies as you gingerly lowered the piano fallboard.

“You know,” Rafe’s words were laced with honey, each syllable slow and sweet, yet there was no mistaking the menacing undertone to them. “We don’t take kindly to people touching our things,” he drawled, his intense gaze locked onto yours, a warning glimmer lurking within his dark eyes.

“I… I had permission from your dad,” you insisted, your words barely audible above a whisper as you tried to defend your actions.

His response was a dismissive chuckle. The atmosphere was taut with tension as he nonchalantly propped his golf bag against the wall. Leisurely slow, he sauntered over to you, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets.

“What were you playing anyway?” he inquired, his tone deceptively relaxed.

“You mean the name of the piece?” you swallowed hard, fear palpable. “It’s called Nocturne in C-sharp Minor.”

The tall blonde squinted at you, and you could not decipher his expression. Wanting to avoid further irritation, you slowly rose from the piano bench and dusted it off.

“What kinda name is that?”

“I… I…” you stammered, blood surging in your ears from fear as Rafe suddenly leaned in and lifted the fallboard. He scanned the keys, perhaps checking for any scratches. You took a deep breath. The scent of his expensive cologne and freshly mown grass overwhelmed your senses.

“I don’t know. It worked for Chopin, I guess.” You said quietly.

“Chopin…” he said with his lip jutted.

“He’s the composer. He wrote it and-”

“I know Chopin,” Rafe interrupted, his eyes suddenly locked on you. Up close, you could not deny that they were a striking shade of blue, if not for the death glare he gave you. “Chopin, Beethoven, Einaudi, Bach…” He backed away and sat in a nearby chair. “Brahms… I’ve been to enough of those long-ass concerts to at least know their names.”

You felt a confusing mix of awe and jealousy as you listened to Rafe’s words. The pit in your stomach proved this. You had never been to a proper symphony concert, and the school concerts you had attended were barely amateur. The thought of your dad’s broken promise to take you to one was a constant source of frustration. However, Rafe’s casual disdain for the very concerts he was lucky enough to attend seemed to be a new addition.

“Well… I’m not getting paid to mess around on your piano,” you said with a wry smile, as you tried to mask your emotions.

“You’re right. You’re not,” Rafe retorted while he twisted the gold signet ring around his index finger with his thumb. Head tilted to the side, his eyes raked over every inch of you, from your hair, your oversized sweatshirt and jeans to your worn knockoff Converses. You felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“I… I should check on Wheezie,” you whispered, eager to escape the tension in the room.

“Why?” Rafe asked, halting his twirling of the signet ring. His face appeared bemused until a sly grin tugged at his lips. “Weeze is a big girl, right? Might as well… play Chopin while she’s doing her own thing…”

As you babysat for the Camerons, you occasionally spotted Rafe in the vicinity. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a striking beauty, while other times he hung out with his friends. Even when he was alone, his body language was a clear warning: "Keep your distance." His piercing gaze made you feel diminutive and unimportant, as if any attempts at interaction would be met with cold indifference. In his presence, you felt like you were navigating hostile terrain, just a misstep away from a precarious situation.

"Well?" he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his lower lip with a finger. The gesture seemed to carry a message, but what message you weren't sure. What was certain was that his expression of amusement made it evident that the outcome was secondary—he was simply enjoying watching you squirm.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your parched lips, while anxiety twisted in your gut as you stared nervously at the grand Steinway piano and Rafe. The weight of his words lingered in the air, causing you to hesitate and consider the potential consequences of your answer.

Every which way you looked at it, you were fucked.

Rafe was bound to tell his parents, and you were sure enough about to lose your job once they found out. Despite Mr. Cameron's outward kindness and willingness to accommodate, you knew very well that playing their piano without supervision was not within the bounds of your permission. And he certainly would not appreciate you lying about it either.

Still, you were determined to make the most out of a shitty situation. You weren't trying to prove anything to Rafe, but if this was going to be your last time playing a Steinway, you would go out in style.

You had chosen a haunting, evocative melody, a tale of lost love and longing. The notes rang out, clear and true, as your fingers danced over the keys.

Closing your eyes and shutting out the world and Rafe, you allowed the music to flow from your fingertips, guided by instinct and emotion. Your touch was delicate yet confident, breathing life into the haunting melody.

After the last notes of the piece hung in the air like a delicate mist. You held your breath, waiting for some kind of response from Rafe, but all you got was a deafening silence. The room felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn't help but cast a quick glance in his direction.

Rafe's eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. When you finally lowered the fallboard, the tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

"I should check on Wheezie," you whispered, breaking the silence.

Rafe made no reply, and you took that as permission to leave. When you returned downstairs a half hour later, Rafe was nowhere to be seen and you sighed in relief.

In the best-case scenario, Rafe would keep your little transgression to himself. In the worst-case scenario, you could explain to Mr. Cameron that curiosity got the better of you and seek his forgiveness. Either way, you vowed never to touch their piano again.

"What's on your setlist today, piano girl?" Rafe's voice caused your heart to skip a beat, and you nearly spewed out the orange juice pooling in your mouth. A mere week had passed since your previous babysitting job at the illustrious Cameron residence. Yet here you were once again, feeling a pang of anxiety at the mere sight of him. You had desperately hoped to avoid any interaction with Rafe for the remainder of your shift, but fate had other plans in store.

There he was, sauntering into the kitchen, sporting an obnoxiously bright salmon polo shirt that clashed horribly with his teal shorts, and finished with a backwards baseball cap. Despite his frat boy appearance, you couldn't help but admit that he looked undeniably handsome. The realization hit you like a brick and left you feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Rafe's gaze shifted towards the living room, where the Steinway was waiting behind closed doors.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched Rafe roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he drawled with a dismissive flick of his wrist, exuding an air of nonchalant superiority as he strode out of the kitchen.

You parroted his words under your breath, feeling frustration boil inside you. Despite his insufferable demeanor, you chose to let it slide. After all, you needed this job, and with a week of smooth sailing under your belt, you suspected that Rafe had kept your little piano incident under wraps. You weren't about to jeopardize your livelihood over a petty disagreement with Rafe Cameron of all people.

Just as you were considering taking refuge in the kitchen to avoid Rafe, the sound of a key being struck on the Steinway echoed through the kitchen, beckoning you towards it.

You stepped into the living room, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, only to find Rafe sprawled in the same chair as before. The piano's fallboard was already raised. Its ebony and ivory keys gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun. Rafe's piercing gaze locked onto yours, then flicked towards the piano.

"Do you want me to play something?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe shrugged, looking uninterested. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice dripping with boredom.

"I don't mind, I guess," you replied, chewing your bottom lip.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were desperate for another chance to play the Steinway. There was a piece that you couldn't get out of your head, and you knew it would sound magnificent on it. You did not need to be asked twice. But at the same time, you were no fool.

You had heard whispers about the "Kook King." Infamous for settling disputes with his fists, not for acts of kindness. You had no idea what was taking place here or why Rafe was suddenly allowing you to play the Camerons' prized possession. But despite your internal warning bells that this could be a trap, you put your glass of orange juice on the floor next to the bench. Consequences be damned.

Taking a confident breath, you aimed to kill.

As you hit the final notes of the composition, the silence was shattered by Rafe's ragged breaths. Your eyes locked onto his, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I've been working on that one for a while," you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his stare. "I know it's not perfect, but I-"

"No, it's good," Rafe interjected with a croak. "You're good."

His words validated your talent, and a rush of excitement surged through you, causing a grin to spread across your face as you basked in his praise. But the moment was short-lived as Rafe pulled out his phone and started scrolling, his demeanor shifting from impressed to cold indifference. Without warning, he abruptly rose from his seat, an air of superiority emanating from his towering frame.

"Tell Rose I'm having dinner at Top's," he drawled, his voice dripping with aloofness as he looked down his nose at you.

"Sure, okay," you stammered, still reeling from his sudden change in behavior.

Without another glance in your direction, he strode out of the room, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

It became routine. A ritual. Embedded in your weekly visits to the Cameron residence.

Each time you babysat Wheezie, the air would fill with the soothing sound of classical music, as you took your place at the Steinway and brought the keys to life. Rafe, either in the background or seated nearby, listened intently. His brooding demeanor was a stark contrast to the beauty of the music.

As the weeks went by, playing the Steinway became a treasured routine, and it wasn't just the music that captivated you. With every note played, the invisible barrier between you and Rafe seemed to thin. Despite his reserved exterior, there was a subtle shift in the room when he was around, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him until one evening, a simple question from him sparked a conversation that would change everything.

"Where did you even learn to play like that?" Rafe asked as the sun cast its final rays of light into the opulent living room, painting the space with a breathtaking array of orange, pink, and purple hues.

You had just finished playing a piece by Bach. The air was still thick with the lingering notes of the Prelude as you closed the Steinway lid.

"There's barely electricity on the cut. Far less for piano classes, and even if there was, you can't—you can't teach this, know what I mean? Well, not the way you play it anyway." His tone shifted, taking on a new quality of—dare you think it?—admiration. You couldn't help but wonder if the beer he was drinking had anything to do with his slip of the tongue and the emotions that seemed to seep through in his words.

You cast your eyes to find Rafe leaning forward in his chair, said beer bottle in hand, his hair falling into his face and his eyes laser-focused on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you feel like you were being seen, truly seen, by him. But as much as you were flattered by his attention, something lurking in the depths of his gaze made you feel uneasy, and you weren't entirely sure why. You brushed the stray thought aside.

"My dad taught me." You said with pride in your voice. "Did you know they used to have jazz nights at the Wreck?" You turned your body towards Rafe, eager to share this piece of history. "Back then, it wasn't called the Wreck. Anyway, my dad used to play there every night from seven until midnight until the Carreras took over. Now he works on the big oil rig in Burnsville."

"Does he still play?" Rafe asked.

You hesitated for a moment, realizing you were oversharing with Rafe Cameron of all people. But something about his presence made you feel comfortable enough to continue. "No, after my mom left," you trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "He just gave up on music altogether."

Rafe looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I guess I'm trying to keep the tradition alive, in my own way. It's not jazz, but he approves." You smiled softly. "Anyway, what about you?"

Arresting blue eyes flicked up at yours, and your stomach flipped.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with curiosity and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, the rattan creaking beneath him. He lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair, revealing his chiselled features. You weren't sure why, but the gesture felt calculated. As though it was meant to entice you. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you drank in the sight of him.

"No offense, but you don't look like the type to be into..." you waved your hand towards the piano, trying to deflect his gaze and lighten the mood.

"Yeah? What do I look like I'm into?" Rafe purred seductively, his tongue swiping his top lip. His eyes fixed on you. You didn't miss his tone. The double entendre just beneath the surface, if you were bold enough to respond to it. You were sure the alcohol running through his veins had something to do with his sudden flirty behavior. Tomorrow, he'd probably forget the whole thing. But it still didn't stop the butterflies from dancing in your stomach.

"I...I..."

"Go on, don't be shy," Rafe coaxed, his eyes dark and intense, almost daring you to take the bait.

"I don't know," you breathed out a laugh, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious.

"Yeah, you do." Rafe said, his tone low and teasing. "Saying I don't look like the type means you have a type in your head. So, let's hear it. What kind of man do you think I am, Y/N?"

You were certain this was not about music anymore, and you felt way out of your element. What were you supposed to say about that? You decided to keep the conversation neutral and err on the side of caution.

"Okay," you nodded as you shifted on the bench. "You look like the type to be interested in other types of music, you know like rap or hip-hop, rock— even country and western, anything but this."

Rafe looked away with a chuckle, a deep rumble that made your skin tingle. He nodded slowly, pondering your words.

"Does that sound bad? I know it sounds awful. I'm sorry." You cringed.

"Nah, it's pretty tame actually... innocent even..." Rafe murmured more to himself than to you. You shivered as his piercing blue gaze met yours, then slowly traveled down to your lips, neck, and every inch of your oversized t-shirt and cardigan to your jeans-covered body.

He cleared his throat, his voice low as he spoke. "And you're not wrong. Classical music was my mom's thing. She loved it." He said taking a swig of his beer.

"Oh," you breathed out, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Why Rafe was always so engrossed in the music each time you played. The wistful expression that crossed his face whenever he heard familiar pieces of music. It was like a window into his soul, a glimpse into a hidden part of him that he kept from the world. And just as you pieced together your thoughts, Rafe spoke, confirming your suspicions.

"We used to go to the mainland to see 'The Four Seasons' or 'Carmen' or some other shit like that. I don't know, it reminds me of her, I guess. Takes me back to happier times." Rafe shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

"Nah, don't be. She was sick for a long time, and now she's... Anyway, It's all good now." Rafe replied with a forced nonchalance, a fragile façade attempting to conceal his true emotions.

"So, you listen to classical music for nostalgia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with a touch of melancholy.

“I guess you could say that,” Rafe said thoughtfully, tilting his head from side to side as he considered your words. He scrunched up his face, eyebrows drawn together as if he had tasted something bitter. “But I'm not a classical music aficionado or anything. It’s not like I’m requesting it in the club. Can you imagine that shit? Right after 21 Savage fuckin’ Mozart on blast. I’d get jumped.”

"I don’t know, you might start a trend," you smiled.

“Sounds like you want me to get jumped”

You outright laughed at that one. “Well, it depends, do you deserve it?”

“Oof” Rafe countered, clutching his chest faux wounded. “That was good.”

You shrugged with a smile, feeling an unexpected kinship with Rafe of all people. Here was this tough, brooding guy who, beneath the surface, was incredibly sentimental and even had a sense of humor. It was a sweet and surprising discovery.

"What about you? Why do you play?" He asked, his blue eyes roaming across your facial features slowly, curiously, when your laughter had died and all that was left was contented silence.

"Good question. Why do I play? Well, I guess for me... it's about the emotion," you replied, your fingers tracing the Steinway keys without pressing them. "Each note, each chord, each composition tells a story. It's like I'm a part of that story, and I get to bring it to life. You don’t need words you just… feel it.”

Rafe nodded, understanding. "I get it. You're the storyteller. The piano is your instrument channelin’ that shit.”

"Exactly!" you said, touching your nose and pointing to him with an earnest laugh.

"Exactly," Rafe repeated with a soft chuckle, his gaze fixated on you.

“Hey, how come I never see you at bonfires?” Rafe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye one sunny afternoon when Rose and Mr. Cameron went out for drinks with friends, leaving Wheezie in your care.

“Bonfires just aren’t my thing,” you replied with a shrug.

“What, no friends to hang out with?” he teased.

“I have plenty of friends!” you retorted, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

“Friends that I’ve never seen you with,” he pressed.

“What do you mean ‘friends I’ve never seen you with’ are you stalking me around town?”

“Maybe I am...” he shrugged a small devious smile curled his lips. “Whatever. Well, my friends and I clearly hang out when you’re not around,” you shot back, a playful smile lighting up your face.

“Sure you do,” he drawled, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Rafe leaned forward against the piano, the sun casting a warm glow on his handsome features. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and how the muscles in his arms flexed under his t-shirt while he absentmindedly tapped his index finger on the piano lid.

“You know, there’s more to life than playing music,” Rafe said, his voice low and smooth, as he turned the words over with his tongue. His finger tapping the lid, became slower, more measured.

“Oh, I know that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I have plenty of other things going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like studying,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m actually quite serious about my grades.”

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a good girl," Rafe chuckled. Once again, his comment caught you off guard. Although you knew he wasn't mocking you, it still felt strange that he felt the need to mention what he perceived was good girl behavior. “Seriously though, you should have some real fun too. Do some shit you probably shouldn’t do. Life’s too short to be cooped up not living it.”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. Rafe had a point, but you weren’t sure if bonfires were the kind of fun you were looking for. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously. As if reading your thoughts, Rafe leaned closer.

“You know, I could show you a good time if you want.” Rafe’s voice was low and husky as he leaned in close, his minty breath fanning your cheek. While he had flirted before, this time there was a sober earnestness to his words that made your heart race. But before you could even formulate a response, the front door's slam cut through the thick tension.

Rafe straightened himself, briefly glancing towards the hallway before fixing his gaze back on you, his jaw tightly clenched in irritation. With determined strides, he purposefully walked away, the sound of his long steps resonating down the corridor, while you unintentionally caught snippets of his familiar argument with Sarah.

It seemed Sarah had developed an interest in John B, a guy you had seen around town, but Rafe vehemently disapproved due to his “pogue” status. You couldn’t fathom why he held such strong opposition, especially considering that you, too, were a Pogue. Had he conveniently forgotten? Or did he consider you an exception?

As you closed the lid of the Steinway, an inescapable curiosity filled your mind about what set your relationship with Rafe apart. Maybe he only saw you as a friend rather than a romantic interest the way Sarah felt about John B.

Reluctant to admit it to yourself, the thought pierced through, leaving you with a confusing mixture of disappointment, anger, and self-annoyance for even entertaining the idea that Rafe could ever feel that way about you.

As Rafe persisted in berating his sister, you dismissed any contemplation of what might have happened between the two of you if she had arrived just a few minutes later.

“Hello?”

“I'm in here.” Rose’s voice, sharp as a razor’s edge, resonated through the foyer of the Camerons’ residence. As you entered the kitchen, you discovered her gingerly picking up the remnants of a shattered vase from the tiled floor. You offered to help her, but she brushed you off with a dismissive gesture.

“No need, honey. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said, smiling unconvincingly.

Mr. Cameron burst into the room a few seconds later. His dominating presence charged the atmosphere, his eyes glinting like ice. It was only when his eyes landed on you that his demeanour changed.

“Oh, Y/N. Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ll only need you for two hours. Sarah should be back by then.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” You replied. You scurried out of his path as he snatched a file and car keys from the kitchen table.

“I’ll be in the car.” He informed Rose tersely, eliciting a stiff nod from her.

Feeling Rose’s disquiet, you intervened to clear the shattered vase. “I can pick these up for you, Rose.” You said warmly.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You assured her with a nod.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her smile returning. “Wheeze is upstairs doing her homework. I’m sorry about all of this. Things are a bit crazy today.” She said, her grip on her bag and sunglasses tightening as if she were holding onto her sanity by a thread. And with that, she vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered pieces of the vase.

Having cleared the wreckage, you climbed the stairs to find Wheezie immersed in her studies in her room, her headphones firmly in place. You inquired if she needed anything or was okay, but she appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded. You marvelled at her ability to concentrate amidst the turmoil, yet you couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that the Camerons hid a dark secret beneath their façade of rich superiority. With a sigh, you left Wheezie to her schoolwork and descended the stairs as the sound of the living room door being opened roused your suspicions.

As you passed the living room, your heart sank at the sight of Rafe. He was sitting on his usual chair, swaying back and forth, lost in a jumble of incoherent words. His eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears. You hurried towards him, your mind racing with worry and fear. You sat down on the floor in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He responded with a roar that shook you to your core. The words that spilled out of Rafe’s mouth were like knives, cutting deep into your soul. He berated himself with a ferocity that was frightening, how he was a failure in his father’s eyes, how he was nothing but a disappointment. You placed a comforting hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some solace amidst his torment.

His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face, as if seeing you for the first time. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw with emotions you couldn’t decipher. There was anger there, yes, but there was something else too – something deeper, more primal.

“Play something.” He suddenly demanded.

“I can- I can get someone for you. Do you want me to call your-”

“No. I don’t want that. I want you to play.” He almost sneered at you.

“Okay.” You whispered tentatively.

You made your way to the piano, your fingers trembling with anticipation. As you began to play, the haunting melody flowed from your fingertips.

As the tender notes from the piano enveloped you, the outside world ceased to exist. Within the protective cocoon of the Cameron's living room, you hoped your music might be a balm for Rafe’s pain. But this sanctuary of sound was violently shattered when an aggressive tug at your hair ripped you from your reverie.

Suddenly, Rafe was there, his fingers cruelly ensnared in your hair, exerting a force so savage it wrenched your head backward, choking off your breath and stilling the music in one brutal tug. The once harmonious room was now charged with an electrifying tension, your eyes captured and held hostage by the ferocity in his.

This was not the Rafe you knew.

The Rafe towering above you appeared utterly transformed. Unrecognizable in every way. Gone was the Rafe who had shared countless evenings filled with laughter and sharing stories. Gone was the anchor that made you feel connected and safe.

Instead, frustration etched itself onto his face like a battle scar, while his dilated pupils revealed an intensity you had never witnessed before, oscillating between your fear-stricken eyes.

His gaze dipped to your parted lips as you let out the breath you were holding, and before you could react, before you could appease him, Rafe captured your lips with his.

You froze. Paralyzed against Rafe's lips. Shock stole your breath away.

Time stopped in an instant as you grappled with the thought that this was a dream, a surreal nightmare. But that fragile notion shattered like glass as Rafe's movements became evident. His lips melded against yours like clay taking form. Hard and desperate, his kiss abruptly catapulted you back into the chilling reality that this was, without a doubt, happening.

Your instinct for survival surged as your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You attempted to push him away, but Rafe tightened his grip on your hair and yanked harder, forcing your submission, his tongue plunging into your mouth when you whined in protest.

The taste of alcohol on Rafe’s tongue was bitter and overwhelming. You tried to convince yourself that this was the reason behind Rafe's behaviour. Any moment now, he would realize his mistake, any moment he would let you go. But instead, Rafe's fingers sank into the hollow of your jaw, holding it open while his tongue explored the warm interior of your mouth.

You whimpered softly as his tongue twirled against yours with ferocity. Rafe adjusted his hand in your hair and gripped tighter, making you cry out as pain surged through your scalp and neck. The sound didn't deter him, as he forced your head back drinking from your mouth greedily.

Discordant notes rang out as you lashed out wildly, reaching for anything you could hold onto for balance. Your hands found Rafe's bicep and you dug your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand away as he kissed you like a man possessed.

Your entire body was inflamed with sensations you had never experienced before as pleasure and pain bled into one. Your scalp ached yet your body felt hot. Your nipples were suddenly sensitive to your sweater's scraggly wool while you ached between your legs for something you had not experienced before. The whirlwind of sensations new and overwhelming within you made your eyes flutter shut on their own, your hands sliding up Rafe's wrist as you held on for balance.

Rafe's mouth worked over yours with an intensity so raw that your protests turned into breathless moans and frantic gasps as you succumbed to his kiss. Your tongue tentatively meets his stroke for stroke. Rafe growled in approval and you could feel him smile into the kiss, his tongue stoking the fire deep within you and just as quickly as it started, Rafe abruptly pulled away leaving you shaking and struggling for air.

Your heart raced within your chest as you abruptly pushed yourself off the piano bench, nearly causing it to tip over in your haste. Hand clutching your chest, you struggled to catch your breath, hastily wiping away tears that had unknowingly streamed down your cheeks.

A fleeting glance at Rafe revealed his heavy breathing, his mouth agape in quick, shallow pants, and his pupils dilated, tinged with a faint hint of blue. Yet, it was the expression etched upon his face that sent a wave of terror crashing over you.

Rafe's eyes showed no remorse.

Instead, you saw an overwhelming hunger within them that made your blood run cold. Rafe’s gaze moved down from your stunned face over your trembling body. The danger that emanated from him made your knees buckle.

You took a step back, your mind whirling with fear and apprehension. But Rafe stepped forward, his eyes locked onto yours with determination.

"I-- I need to check on Wheezie. See what she'd like for dinner," you whispered, your voice shaking as you inched backwards toward the door. You turned to run but it was too late.

Rafe reached out and snatched the hem of your sweater, yanking you towards him. You struggled to break free, twisting and thrashing like a scared kitten in his grip but Rafe was relentless. His other hand reached for your waist as he pulled you close. His nose and lips trailed the back of your neck and into your hairline and he groaned as he breathed you in. With a jab of your elbow into his rib you wriggled free. It wasn't enough to wound him but it gave you the head start needed to run.

You dashed from the room, Rafe's pursuit relentless. His outstretched fingers grazed your sweater, narrowly missing its mark. It wasn't until you sprinted up the stairs that he abandoned the chase. You didn't need to glance back to feel his gaze on you. The tendrils of his breathless laugh reverberated down the corridor.

You burst into Wheezie's room, a hot mess of tears and fear. You made up some excuse about feeling unwell and had to go home immediately. After calling Rose and arranging for a replacement babysitter for Wheezie, you sat in her room and waited for the sitter to arrive.

You didn't see Rafe when you left, and you thanked God for that. You knew that if you saw him, you would break down crying, and you couldn't bear to show him any more weakness. But the tears came anyways, hot and heavy, as soon as you got home. How could you have been so stupid? You knew all the rumors about him, knew that he wasn't a good guy, and yet somehow, you thought in your warped mind that he was different. A decent human being who was simply misunderstood.

It wasn't like you didn't see the signs. They were always there, staring you right in the face. The blatant flirting, the staring, the way he undressed you with his gaze. You dismissed every red flag, thinking he couldn't like you in that kind of way because you were not the type of girl Rafe Cameron would go for and you certainly weren't the type of girl Rafe Cameron would kiss.

And it wasn't just the kiss that scared you. It was the fact that Rafe had no intention of stopping. It was the way he held onto you, the way he made you feel like you were drowning in a sea of desire. He was a predator, relentless in his pursuit of you, and as you thought about how he grabbed onto your clothes his lips tracing your neck even as you protested you couldn't help but cry even harder.

No. There was no way you were setting foot in that house again. Not after the way Rafe kissed you, not after what he was determined to get out of you.

Over the next few weeks, Rose's texts kept coming, each one more insistent than the last. But you knew better than to give in to her demands. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what had happened with Rafe. It was too dangerous, too risky, and you couldn't afford to let your guard down again.

You thought about telling her what had happened with Rafe, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How could you explain what had happened without sounding like a fool? That you had been hanging out with her stepson for months, that you had let things get out of hand?

You had every intention of never setting foot in that house again. But then Rose sent you a text, asking if you were available on Saturday. They were desperate, she said, and willing to offer triple what they usually paid. Rafe and Sarah were going to a game and the lady who was supposed to look after Wheezie had a family emergency.

You were going to turn them down, again, but the truth was that since you had dropped them as a client, it had been difficult to find other work. So, against your better judgement, you agreed, but only after Rose confirmed that she and Mr Cameron would be home long before Sarah and Rafe returned.

As the day of the babysitting gig approached, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you shouldn't go, that it was too risky, too dangerous. But the promise of easy money was too tempting to ignore. And so, against your better judgement, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron's house once again, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you approached the front door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Rose had texted you on your way over, telling you that she would be getting ready and to let yourself in. But when you rang the doorbell and received no answer, you began to worry. Still, you didn't think anything of it when you turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. You stepped inside and called out for Wheezie and Rose, but the house was silent.

Making your way to the kitchen, you put down your bag and pulled out your phone. You texted Rose and Wheezie to let them know that you had arrived and were in the kitchen, just in case Wheezie was plugged in. But as you waited for a response, your heart sank.

Something wasn't right. You could feel it.

You had been to the Camerons' house many times and had let yourself in on a few occasions when they were too busy to answer the door. None of this was new but it felt different. An ominous feeling washed over you. But just as you began to worry, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your thoughts, and you sighed in relief.

As you called out for Rose, a sudden hush fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up, hoping to see Rose's familiar figure, but instead, your eyes met the last person you expected to see: Rafe.

His presence was jarring, like a thunderclap on a clear day. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of his unexpected appearance. But before you could utter a word, Rafe's murmur cut through the silence like a knife.

"Nah, not Rose," he said with a smile.

Fear took hold of you as you realized that he must have had something to do with Rose's texts in the first place. You stepped back, fear making your knees buckle.

"Where's Rose?" you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t come near me,” you said firmly as Rafe rounded the kitchen island towards you. Immediately, you moved in the opposite direction away from him.

“I… I just… I needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?” he said, opening his hands to placate you.

“Did Rose actually text me?”

“She did,” Rafe soothed. “But then I, uh… I heard you’d be here tonight instead of Pat, and well… seeing you was more important to me than some game.” His eyes trailed over your face, studying your every reaction.

“Where’s Wheezie?”

“With Sarah.”

You shook your head, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Rafe have orchestrated this situation for you to be alone with him without any of the Camerons noticing? But as if he heard your thoughts, a sly smile curled his lips and he chuckled softly.

“I told Rose I’d watch over Wheeze so she could catch an early ferry,” Rafe explained, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, connecting invisible dots as he spoke. “After Rose left I gave my ticket to Wheeze.”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Look, I know the last time I was a little… a little intense…”

“Intense!” You choked. You would have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Yes, and I’m -- I'm really sorry about that, okay? I really am.”

"You tried to ra-”

"No! No, no, I would never..." Rafe rushed towards you and you immediately backed away. He froze mid-step as you cowered, his hands still raised in surrender. "I’m sorry things were confusing and it looked that way but I wasn't trying to hurt you. God, I- l’m-" Rafe sighed, deflated his hands landed on his hips, he looked away as he pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"You're sorry it looked that way?" you whispered your voice trembling. Rafe's words echoed in your mind while memories of that day in all its menacing glory flooded back. You looked at him flabbergasted.

"Rafe...you... you were kissing me-”

“I know but I-”

“And touching me--"

He breathed out a laugh "Come on, you know I was only-,"

“Without my consent, Rafe.”

He was silent with that and you hoped your words had finally sunk in, had finally made him understand how terrifying he was in that moment.

“Then you chased me. You chased me like some...” you couldn’t even finish the sentence. You didn’t know how to finish the sentence. You were so hurt and confused. That your friend could do something like that to you. “I don’t even know who you are. I- I don’t think I ever did,” you whispered.

Rafe's eyes landed on yours with that. His gaze was dark and intense, and for a moment, you thought you had gotten through to him because he nodded slowly. But then he let out a humourless chuckle, reminding you of the one he gave post-chase, and any hope of reaching him dissipated.

"You know, it’s funny ‘cause you say that...” Rafe said coldly, a hand gesturing to you as if trying to grasp his own thoughts “But you’re not entirely innocent in all of this, are you?”

“I don't-- I don't understand."

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, huh, Y/N?

"Raf—"

"What kind of mental shit you put me through? Nah, you don't. You don't think about that, do you?" he asked, his hands gesturing toward you as his eyes narrowed and he stared you down. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized the gravity of Rafe's words. It was as if he was confessing to a darker truth, a mental anguish that he had been helplessly consumed by, something unintentionally sparked within him by your actions.

"I have my dad on my back talking about legacies, our family business and preparing me for that shit meanwhile Sarah’s running around town doing god knows what with some loser fucking up our family name. I have real shit to deal with...” he gave out a bitter laugh his hand clutched to his chest as he confessed.

“But even with all of that all I can think about every minute of every fucking day, is you.” Rafe's voice was raw and anguished. His hand moved up to his ear as he slowly walked towards you.

"It's like you've crawled into my brain, you know? Like I’m under some fucking spell with your music and your voice and your-" His eyes trailed down your body just as his hand followed the motion, and you shuddered. He was consuming you with his gaze every sinful thought etched across his features.

"Nah, you made me do this…” he said bitterly, his jaw clenched tight.

“Rafe--”

“You did and now I'm the bad guy because I had a moment of weakness. But you know what? Fuck, it.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck it, i’ll take responsibility for my part in this--”

“Rafe--”

“That’s what real men do, right? Take responsibility for their shit and I’m all about being accountable, so yeah, I kissed you.” He said nodding slowly. “But I’m not sorry.”

His words made you recoil, disbelief etched across your face as you stared at him.

“Yeah, you want me to pretend like I am. Act apologetic but I won’t. I'm not sorry and you should quit actin’ like you didn't enjoy it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the weight of his accusation settling in your stomach. Stunned, you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. A dry, humorless laugh left you instead. Rafe simply nodded slyly as he resumed his steps towards you, and as you stepped backwards, your back collided with the kitchen counter.

“That’s- that’s not true.”

“No?” he asked faux confused.

“It’s not- that’s not fair”

“Isn’t it?” he tutted.

"Rafe, listen to me," you whispered shakily, but he was already leaning in, his eyes dark and clouded.

"No. No, no, you listen.” he rasped, circling in and looking down on you, his lips pouted as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “You were moaning Y/N- No, don’t do that. Don’t shake your head, and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don't stand there and pretend this whole fucking thing is one-sided. You were moaning into my mouth… and you...you held on to me, yeah? I didn’t force you to do those things."

"Rafe--”

“That was all you princess. So you gotta ask yourself. What kinda girl are you to be into that, hm?” Rafe whispered as he leaned into you. “What kinda girl would moan like a whore when a guy manhandles her…”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t. I wanted you to stop Rafe and you-”

Rafe chuckled before you could even finish your sentence.

“Is that what was happening while you were kissing me back? Nah, see I know what your problem is. I know, I know, I know…” he repeated softly, as he gently rested his hands on your hips. “I know why you ran when deep down you wanted it.”

You opened your mouth to protest only for Rafe to push his body up against yours. The hard wall of his body renders you speechless. “We eye fucked each other for months,” he whispered, as he looked down at you. His eyes darted to your lips as he licked his own. “You wanted it.” He said coldly.

"But I get it. It was overwhelming... too much... too soon... hm?" he murmured as his nose grazed yours. "I should have approached you more patiently. I realize that now," he acknowledged with a slow nod. "I should have been gentle with you, and I had every intention to. But I -- I wanted you so bad that day that I couldn't think straight. I'm thinking straight now, though."

“Rafe...” you breathed out, your hands on his chest to push him away but not quite having the strength to do so. Rafe must have picked up on this because he leaned in, his lips close to yours.

“You keep saying my name but you’re not telling me to stop...” Rafe whispered as his fingers caressed your cheek. With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, and you willingly yielded. His caress made you sway, your mind growing hazy and confused. To regain your balance, you closed your eyes.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop, hm?” he whispered.

You could feel the electricity between you as Rafe leaned in, lips hovering over yours and you tilted your head up slightly, closing the distance, only to be met with nothing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Rafe’s hooded ones a victorious smile creeping across his lips.

“Come on” Rafe whispered, and before you could protest Rafe laced his fingers in yours and gently tugged you towards the living room.

Seated at the piano, Rafe smoothly lifted the fallboard with ease.

"Play something for me," he husked, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him on the bench. You felt a flutter of nervousness as you perched yourself next to him, unsure of where to start. You couldn't comprehend how you had gone from rejecting his advances to this moment of willing compliance and acceptance.

Rafe watched you intently. You had been up-close to Rafe before, but never this close. Not this intimately. Your mind became blank, overwhelmed with the prospect of playing for him.

"I...I don't know what to..." you stuttered.

"Anything, anything at all," Rafe whispered, his eyes studying your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your trembling fingers on the keys and began to release the notes, slowly at first, but gaining confidence with every passing moment.

“I noticed you, you know,” Rafe rasped. His knuckles suddenly grazed your cheek, and you flinched. “The first time you came to babysit Wheeze, I noticed you.” Rafe followed his knuckles as he moved them across your jaw.

“I remember thinking you were beautiful… shy… innocent…” Opening his hand, his fingers trailed down your neck, and your breath hitched.

“You were wearing this exact sweater…” His fingers splayed over your collarbone as they moved slowly down to your chest.

“What are you hiding under here, hm?” he asked softly. “What are you hiding under these baggy clothes?”

You shied away from his touch, your hands withdrawing from the keys of the piano.

"No. None of that. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said his voice stern yet soft. Your eyes glanced at his as Rafe inched closer. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” he iterated slowly. “Start again.”

Swallowing you placed your hands on the keys while the music resumed from your fingertips.

Rafe shifted closer his leg flushed against your own. He wrapped his arm over the back of you and hooked it to the other side of the bench. Leaning in, his nose ghosted your neck.

“Raf-”

“Shhhh…”His nose nudged into your hairline. His other hand on your chest continued its exploration. It moved lower cupping your tit over your sweater. The gasp you make made Rafe breathe even heavier, a deep pur coming from the back of his throat.

“Please-” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you, you know that? Every time you played I’d think about what you’d feel like... what you’d look like, moaning for me. I wanna hear you moan for me.”

Determined Rafe’s hand moved lower until it dipped under your sweater. Deftly he fumbled under your t-shirt and you gasped when his warm fingers brushed the skin of your stomach. His other hand let go of the piano stool and was now under your sweater squeezing your tit through your bra.

“Rafe--”

“Keep playing” he whispered against your neck and you did. His hand at your stomach moved lower, finding the button on your jeans he unbutton it with one deft move and your hands falter.

“Keep playing” he murmured, face nudging into your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your throat. “I wanna hear you play while I touch you”

The sensation of Rafe's hands on your body was almost lost in the overwhelming numbness that had taken over you. His strong hand leisurely tugged at the waistband of your panties seeking to touch what lay beneath, while his other hand snaked under your bra. He caressed and teased your nipple until a soft sob erupted from you as pleasure surged through your veins.

Rafe moved his hand lower, slipping it between your wet folds and pushing his middle finger inside of you. You cried out, the intensity of sensation causing you to clutch onto Rafe's arm for support, music abandoned.

“It’s okay “ Rafe breathed deeply into your neck, as he roughly peppered your neck with kisses. “You're okay. Just breathe...” and as he said those comforting words he gently wormed another slender finger passed your slippery folds and into you.

You hissed, trying to move away from the burning stretch of his long fingers. Your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist with enough force to draw blood but Rafe determined as ever slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, each time inserting them a little deeper until it reached his signet ring.

"You've had more than one finger before?" he asked hotly against your neck. You shook your head no, gritting your teeth in an effort to endure him stretching you further still. Rafe groaned and nipped softly at your jawline, "Fuck, I can tell. I can barely move them. But you're a good girl, aren't you? You're taking them well and afterwards, I'm gonna train you to take all of me."

Rafe's lips trailed tender kisses down the length of your neck, then his mouth closed hungrily around the sensitive skin. His two fingers moved inside you and each slow thrust drew a soft moan from your lips.

With surety, he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, barely grazing your clit with his thumb. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, causing you to gasp and cum embarrassingly fast. Your pussy contracting around his fingers, milking them for all they were worth.

“Oh Fuuckk…” Rafe hissed. “You liked that, I can feel it.“ He sighed utterly mesmerised. “Well, if you like that...” Rafe groaned resting his forehead against the side of your face and planting soft kisses on your cheek. “You’re gonna love this.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Rafe's probing fingers started their relentless hunt for something deep within you. Suddenly, those searching digits found what they were looking for - a spot that caused you to arch over and clutch his hand as you cried out despite your best efforts.

“Oh- there it is” he chuckled softly, shunting his hand and hitting that spot over and over again with a speed and force that knocked the breath out of you, while his thumb expertly rubbed your clit and the fingers of his other hand mercilessly pulled and twisted your nipple.

“OhmyGOD!” you cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand. Just like that.”

Rafe kept at it, even as your nails scraped along his wrist and arm for purchase. Even as you screamed and tried to scissor your legs closed to shut him out. None of it mattered as your eyes crossed and you felt your orgasm raw and violent crash over you.

Bucking violently into Rafe’s hand, you could feel your release seep through your jeans and onto the piano bench. Pooling and overflowing you could hear it trickle onto the hardwood floor like raindrops and still, Rafe kept going, kept finger fucking you.

Lost in a sea of agonising pleasure you could do nothing but slump against him and take it, your hips stuttering, your mouth sagging as you whimpered and gasped.

Rafe moaned against you, planting soft kisses on the column of your throat. He stilled his hand, his fingers buried deep inside while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

"Seems my fingers are just as talented as yours, hm?" he said with a breathless chuckle. His nose trailed along your neck, while his tongue darted out to capture the perspiration nestled there.

Gently, Rafe removed his digits while you gazed in shock, unable to voice a single word as he brought the wet fingers to his lips and ravenously lapped up your fluids with a contented hum.

“It’s too much.” you said hoarsely “I can’t-- I can't do this. No more, Rafe. No more,” you said weakly, trying to remove his hand from your breast and move away from his hold only for Rafe to seize your wrist painfully in his grasp.

"No more?" Rafe chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on you with dilated pupils. "No more?" he repeated, inching closer as he shook his head. "Nah, baby. No. We're just getting started..."

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Thank you for reading. Thanks for liking and reblogging. PART 2 / MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe fic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe #obx #obx rafe cameron #selfreblog #timezone reblog

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bluemari23 · 1 month

Text

dancing like butterfly wings || park seonghwa

summary: you've been feeling a little down lately as you experience another flare up, and not wanting to feel like a burden, you try to to hide it from your soulmate.

pairing: seonghwa x reader

genre: fluff, soulmate au

warnings: some depressive thoughts, insecurities, mc going through it, disabled reader (POTS), mentions of vomit/vomiting

masterlist

for my disabled people who sometimes just wanna be taken care of ❤️

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

It wasn't like you always wanted to feel this way, incompetent and unable to do anything. You felt like a complete burden.

Even Seonghwa felt like he had to stay back with you, instead of going and exploring the city before the concert tonight with the rest of the boys.

You woke up feeling a little nauseous, until it was time to get up and then you had to run to the bathroom, hoping you didn't wake up your sleeping soulmate. He had a long night last night, having a concert and then doing a live with Hongjoong and Wooyoung.

He didn't get into the room until after two am, practically falling into bed beside you and pulling you into his arms.

You closed the door, hoping it would block the sound of you, but it didn't. You could feel the hand rubbing at your back as he holds your hair back with his other hand.

"Go away Hwa. I don't want you to see this." You cried out, frustrated with yourself and your body, thoughts moving back to why you couldn't have a normal body.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well? Is that why you went to bed early?" He asked, trying to figure out if you were in a flare up or just sick, or both.

He hated seeing you like this, and always tried to do his best to help you prevent flare ups, but sometimes you couldn't prevent one. Noe even with all the preparation in the world.

"Please Hwa." You are practically sobbing now, but you had managed to stop throwing up.

Seonghwa moved you so you were lying against his chest, a warm wash cloth already in hand as he then helped clean you up and wipe away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead and brow.

It had taken a little while, and the ignoring of your pleading, to get you back into bed and curled up against his side. He had already messaged the boys about your condition and that he would be staying back with you.

You hated that your body decided that now was the time to attack itself, a flare up of your disability leaving your heart rate unable to lower and your blood pooling making you nauseous and unable to lay still.

"Alright, my love. I have your salty snacks, and your drink. How about we put a movie on, hmm?" Seonghwa looks down at you after pulling you back into his side as he gets back into the large, comfy hotel bed.

"Please Seonghwa, I can take care of myself. You've always wanted to explore this city. it's okay, I promise." You try to tell him, but he doesn't hear it.

"That's the thing, my love. You don't have to take care of yourself. Not anymore. Not when you have me." He squeezes your shoulder and places a soft, loving kiss to your temple before moving to grab the remote and look for a movie for the too of you to watch.

-*-*-

*knock*knock*

You both turn to the door, hearing voices and a small screech before the door opens, Wooyoung falling in with Yunho holding the door key and the rest of the boys peering inside.

"Guys? What's going on?" Seonghwa asks the boys, mainly looking towards Hongjoong who just looked at you both sheepishly.

"Well, we heard you weren't feeling well and wanted to cheer you up." Hongjoon responded, holding up a bouquet of your favorite flowers, already in a cute vase.

That's when you both noticed the rest of the boys were all holding different items or bags, with the legos in Jongho's grasp catching your eye.

You couldn't help the tears that threatened to fall from your waterline, seeing how much the boys cared for you.

You tried to sit up so you could get out of bed only for San to move forward, propping up the pillows behind you and preventing you from leaving the bed.

"No, it's okay! We'll just sit with you!" San grinned at you, making a small smile grow on your own lips. He sat down and put his bag on the bed, opening it to reveal your favorite takeout. You didn't even know they had it in this city.

"See, baby. You don't have to take care of yourself. We will do it."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa #fluff #ateez x disabled reader #ateez soulmate #bluemari23

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luvtak · 10 months

Text

stray kids as cliche romance tropes

❀ pairing skz x gn!reader

❀ genre/tw fluff fluff fluff!! a smidgen of angst, slightly (like the slightest) suggestive, some are est. relationship, some getting together <33

❀ w/c 2248, about 200-300 for each member (do not ask me what happened with linos hehe

❀ a/n here it is!! this took me like a month to write lol so i hope its good!! personal faves are minho and innies, let me know which one is yours <333

Chan: Childhood Sweethearts

You’ve lived your life holding Chan’s hand.

You met in elementary school, immediately infatuated with the boy and his shy smile. He called you pretty on the first day of school and spent the rest of the year taking care of you: sharpening your pencils and sharing his lunch. Adults would coo and call it puppy love, laughing at the lovesick smiles adorned on your faces, but there was nothing childish about how you looked at each other.

Middle school is spent going to the movies and sharing ice cream, swimming, and sharing sweet laughs. First kisses in the fall and gumball machine promise rings given in the spring—it’s innocent in the sweetest way, forever is simple when you’re thirteen.

Teenage years give way to deeper feelings and new experiences; There was no question you were together—even if you never had the conversation, his hands locked in yours tells everyone what they need to know. High School is defined by stolen kisses on doorsteps and promposals, nights spent giggling into each other’s mouths to keep quiet. You think you know his body and soul as well as your own, like leaves plucked from the same tree.

Childhood eases into adulthood, and suddenly you’ve loved each other longer than you’ve been alive. There’s no question of a future together, no pressure to ask what you are or what you will be. Sometimes you wonder if you missed out on something, if it would’ve been better to have loved more, but when you see him there is no question. It’s easy together, a quiet breeze encasing you in his affections, and you’ll continue like you always have, hand in hand.

Minho: Second Chance Romance

When you saw him again, you didn’t realize it would hurt so bad. He’s gorgeous, somehow even prettier than he was a year ago. You think the grocery store is an interesting place to have this interaction—an unusual intruder to your midnight snack run, haloed by ice cream.

It’s strange, looking at him like you’ve never met, as if he hasn’t seen the inner workings of your mind or mapped your skin with his hands.

You can’t deny you’ve missed him, still grieving the relationship you thought you’d be in forever. You broke up because you didn’t feel appreciated, you were always unsure about how he felt, and he was always too busy and too cocksure to change that. So, you were certain he’d ignore you and you’d both go on with your lives, but when he sees you, he smiles.

It’s such a contradictory thing, to feel at ease at his figure, but anxious to hear his voice. You know how he’ll sound, so soft and charming, the perfect mix of arrogance and kindness.

When he finally stands in front you, there is so much the same as the last time you saw him, yet distinct differences in how he looks at you. A year ago, his eyes were filled with tears and now they’re so bright it’s blinding. He tells you it’s good to see you, that it’s been too long; he doesn’t want to bother you, but he doesn’t know the next time he’ll see you and he needs you to know that he’s missed you.

When he asks to walk you home, you surprise both of you by saying yes. Sharing stories of the year spent apart and lamenting over lost days together. He wonders if you’ll want to do this again, if you’re up to trying another time equipped with more love and more patience. And how can you say no, when he came back to you like an angel in the frozen food aisle.

Changbin: Damsel in Distress

When you fell, you wanted to die. There you were in the middle of the gym running on the treadmill when you lost your footing and fell directly on your face. It was not your proudest moment, and you were dead set on never setting foot in this gym ever again, maybe not even leaving your house you were that embarrassed. Until you hear someone asking if you were okay, and suddenly he’s fussing around you and lifting you up.

Changbin has seen you here before, watching you work on the equipment, and fantasizing about coming up and introducing himself, but he’s never gained enough courage. It was in the middle of one of these daydreams when you tripped, and immediately he was filled with worry. Rushing over, he checked your hands and pulled up your leggings to see if your knees were scraped and introduced himself while putting band aids on your cuts.

He's cute and nervous, and you can’t help but be swayed by how kind he is. He sits with you while you recuperate and asks to take you to lunch to make up for the embarrassment. The whole time he introduces himself as someone wonderful, you find that he’s silly and so sweet. When he admits to have been crushing on you, you laugh and wonder why he never came up to you before. And as the day comes to an end, you come to be a little grateful for the fall.

Hyunjin: Fake Relationship/Wedding Date

Hyunjin has been your friend for a long time, and your family has always wanted you to be together—it’s been years of awkward questions and dinner invites. When your sister got engaged, she told you to bring a date, and single as can be, the only person to ask was Hyunjin.

At first, he was hesitant. He knew and loved your family, and the idea of lying to them and pretending to be your boyfriend when he is certainly not, is hard to stomach. When he finally agrees he still wonders if it’s a good idea, but seeing the bright smile on your face makes up for it.

The family is ecstatic when they see who your date is, and as the night goes on you start to see why they’re so happy—on a superficial level, you’ve always known how beautiful and wonderful he is, but seeing him here all dressed up and smiling down at you, you start to see what your family means when they say you’re perfect together. You’re dancing and talking, and he becomes so much more than just your friend.

He’s always loved you, maybe not romantically, but he has. And something turns when he’s dancing with you, maybe it’s the lights or the music, but he can feel something shift. When he takes you home that night, he wonders if it’ll still feel this way in the morning.

Jisung: Best friends to Lovers

You know everything about each other, it’s as if you’re one person—finishing each other’s sentences and sharing inside jokes. You’ve spent your lives together, yet it has been purely platonic. You’ve both had relationships and never saw each other as more than you are, until one night he looks a little too pretty under the TV light and suddenly you’re overthinking every little interaction you’ve had.

If it’s normal to be so close to someone who’s just your friend—If other people put their best friend before anything else, including significant others. Jisung loves you, that much is obvious, but you’re not sure if he sees you the way you see him; he takes up every inch of your heart, everything you do is for him.

In Han’s mind, you know how he feels—it’s so clear to him how you feel for each other, while unspoken he thinks his actions speak louder than words. He’s just been waiting for you to be ready, maybe that’s his mistake; you’ve both been waiting to make the first move.

Your friends are frustrated, waiting for you to finally see what they do. Lecturing the both of you on admitting your feelings, but neither you nor Jisung want to mess with the relationship you already have.

When you finally come to terms with how you feel, you confess to your feelings like a crime, he tells you like whispering a secret you already know. Shakey and tired of feeling so overwhelmed with how big your feelings are for him, you admit to realizing how much you truly love him. All he can do is laugh, wondering why you were both so anxious to tell each other this one secret, when you’ve shared all the others.

Felix: Vacation Romance

When your friends decided to go on vacation, you could never have dreamed of meeting someone as wonderful as Felix. You met him three days into your three-week trip, and if you thought he was lovely from afar, he’s even sweeter up close. The relationship was eager, escalating quickly over the course of your stay. Within days you felt like you’d known him forever, sure that you were somehow meant to meet.

Days are spent in the sun, soaking up love and light—watching new freckles arrive on his cheekbones as the weeks fade. His skin is always touching yours, hands in your hair and kisses pressed into your neck. He thinks he’s a little bit in love with you, even so, the threat of the end hangs over your head; you never thought this would last, in fact you knew it would be too hard to continue, but you throw yourself headfirst into it anyway.

Your first kiss is cautious and your last is hasty, a million little touches in twenty-one days leading up to a goodbye. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again, or if it only worked because it was temporary. Your friends laugh at you, thinking you’re taking this little fling too seriously, but they’ve don’t know what it feels like to have his eyes on you.

The night before you leave, he tells you he’ll miss you, and you think that’s it—that the vacation will just become a romantic memory to look back on, but he asks if he can call you, and you think that maybe this could lead to so much more.

Seungmin: Opposites Attract

There was no question, you two were very different people—while you were bubbly and bright, Seungmin was often blunt and withdrawn. Sure, he can be silly, and you don’t think you’ve met anyone funnier than he is, but often he can be cold. When you first got together all your friends wondered how it would work, if someone as sunshiny as you could really feel fulfilled by someone like him.

What they don’t see is how effortlessly sweet he is to you, taking care of your heart like it’s his own. It was difficult in the beginning, to accept both sides of him—the outside version who would barely hold your hand and the inside one, thoughtlessly grazing your skin. He has so much admiration and respect for your open nature; sometimes he wants to be more like you, but he doesn’t think you’d love him so much if it weren’t for your differences.

You balance each other in the best ways, speaking up for him when his social battery gives way; laughing away his jokes when they could come off too hard. On the other side, Seungmin allows you a respite from the constant smiles—it can get exhausting keeping a positive attitude, but he loves you in your quiet moments as well as your loud ones.

He’s loved you for all your differences, appreciated you more for them—even if no one understood it didn’t matter because when it’s just you two alone together, there’s nothing different about you.

Jeongin: Boy Next Door

You can count your life in moments spent walking home with Jeongin—he smiles down at you, and asks about your day, and shares his snacks. Summers spent in each other’s backyards, learning to swim and ride bikes; telling scary stories and recitations of silly dreams. As you get older, he only becomes kinder and more handsome, offering to drive you places and invites you out with his friends. It’s only natural to have a crush on him, to feel stubborn butterflies when his dimples are directed at you, but as childhood drifts away and the infatuation becomes more intense, you’re certain you’re in love with him.

When you left for college, you didn’t think your heart would tear into pieces, but all year you missed him. You missed the sidewalk conversations and the sweet grin before he’d offer something to share—you missed sitting in his car, sat so close to him you can smell his cologne mixed with the leather seats, but mostly you just missed his body next to yours.

No boy at school amounted to him, none of them made you feel as giddy and charmed, none of them were able to mask the need you felt for him. You wondered if he thought that way about you, so sure that he was sitting miles and miles away from you, yearning for your company.

When you arrived home for the summer, it was almost like he was waiting for you. Perched on his porch swing and looking out on an empty suburban street. His hair had grown longer, and he seemed freer somehow, but he was still Jeongin—still the boy who’d walk with you and trigger your hundred-watt smile. And when you finally took your first steps outside and waved him over, he was still just the boy next door, smiling down at you.

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gigidragonbbxxx · 2 months

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lil twist on the "movie star role"/"memoir method" for visualizing a dream life - another suggested method for the manifesting hotties

spoiler: this may help you figure out what techniques are right for you!

disclaimer: remember that these methods and techniques are just tools to get your mind saturated with thinking in your favor, stay grounded in the basics of the law and have fun with the varied tools!

I love the "movie star role" method. For those who don't know, it's a lil visualization technique where manifesting baddies act as if they're preparing to play the role of X. So if you want to be your SP's girlfriend, they "prep" for the role by living in the end state of already being SP's girlfriend. This includes embodying the attitude, saying affirmations like "I love being in a committed relationship" or "SP changed soooo much to gain my trust. We're so happy now!". Some baddies take a step further and apply it to their self-concept (this is genius btw) and begin saying affirmations like "I'm so beautiful and unforgettable, it is really not that surprising he came back begging for me. Giving him a chance was only fair with how much he groveled!"

Now, enter the "memoir method". This is usually a scripting technique but give Gigi a sec to explain! There are many variations of this method but it's essentially writing the reality you want to happen and putting the date in the future aka the deadline you wanna experience this by. Most encourage baddies to write in the past tense like "I'm so grateful I received enough money to cover my vacation, my bonuses keep increasing."

Now enter Gigi's lil twist on these methods - COMBINE THEM INTO WHAT I LIKE TO CALL:

The Interview Method

Imagine being interviewed by other loass baddies asking you "How did you achieve this?"

Visualize your dream self, the ultimate version of you that would warrant this type of attention and the answers that version of you would give.

Imagine an older Beyonce giving the "tell all" interview of a lifetime - THAT LEVEL OF HYPE.

Gigi's example:

I know I look glamorous and ageless. My skin is smooth and clear, my hair is long, inky black, blown out and curled. My body looks like an advertisement for hourglasses. The dress I'm wearing is flattering, accentuating my curves. I'm as sexy as I am elegant. The interviewer looks on with eagerness, practically spilling over with admiration.

"The Law of Assumption girlies wanna know Gigi, how the hell did you get results like this? Hollywood actresses would get insecure being in the same room as you! What are your methods? What's your daily routine?"

Now this is where the spoiler comes in! WHAT COMES TO MIND IMMEDIATELY? WHAT METHODS WOULD YOUR DREAM SELF LIKE?

bc guess what reader? all the answers are within you. your job is to let them out. coax them out with these exercises. feel empowered.

if your first reaction is: Idk Gigi. I don't know what methods work for me.

My answer to that is: then this technique is not for you. This method favors the baddies who are more familiar with the different modalities of manifesting. I encourage you to go and explore different things. Try them out. See which ones you like and then circle back to this and think about which ones resonated with you.

I encourage you to write it out. Script it as you visualize.

My own experience:

From this method I learned that my subconscious viewed my dream self as someone who was very disciplined and consistent. So I started to include these in my daily affirmations (I am disciplined, etc.). I realized that my dream self would let this quality seep into every facet of her life. I'm big into makeup and skincare so I thought, my dream self would probably affirm out loud or in her mind as she looked in the mirror and did her routine.

then the lil interviewer popped up in my head: "What happens on the days you don't feel well enough to do your routine?"

My mind (thinking in its favor) immediately went: that's rare that I don't have the discipline to stick to my routine so if I'm sick or in an emergency, I would just do a basic routine and play an affirmation tape.

I came to the conclusion that Dream Self would

be reliable

come across as intelligent - immediately

pride herself on good self-care

have a healthy relationship with SP

have friends who knew the law and would be encouraging

be calm and have a calm energy bc she knows everything is in her favor

be seen as a caring, beautiful, deep soul with much to give

never be taken for granted

always be spoiled by life - wealthy in finance and health

I also reversed this method: what would my Dream Self NOT do?

Dream Self wouldn't

talk badly about herself

put others down

get bothered by the 3D

surround herself with people who have limiting thoughts

be lazy

think that the worst would happen to her

This is the type of inner convo I want more loass baddies to have with themselves because it's important to be clear WITHIN yourself what you WANT.

and remember to have fun. Include questions about the silliest things like your favorite lipstick or fav playlist or opinions about dumb tv shows. One of my favorite visualizations is me telling the interviewer that I watched all of Sex and the City and that I vowed to never be a Carrie LOL.

okay, happy manifesting loass baddies!!

xx, gigi

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leohamatoblog · 21 days

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Headcanon: How They Comfort You

warnings: none. sfw, gender neutral. mentions of possible panick attack

note: it's sexual assault awareness month. if you are a survivor, it wasn't your fault. your experience is valid and it had nothing to do with something you did or wore. it wasn't your fault. 💙

Leo:

Emotions are not his thing. The only time he really grips on to the gravity of a situation is if it's a mission, or if you're full blown sobbing. Leo, by nature, prefers to find a solution and talk things out. He takes the mature route and offers practical advice to resolve the issue, but then what happens if it's something he can't fix?

You came to him one day after you had just went over the edge. You couldn't stop crying, everything was going wrong, and it was totally out of your control. You found him in his room taking care of his bonsai plant and just fell apart.

Leo didn't know if you were hurt or if something awful had happened, so he went in to big brother/protective boyfriend mode. He was bombarding you with questions until he realized you weren't hurt physically, but emotionally was a different story. He was half tempted to go get Mikey to help with the situation, but you didn't seem like you could be left alone.

He just allowed you to cry and offered comforting strokes against your hair and shoulder. He didn't say anything to you because there wasn't a problem persay, you were just letting out whatever it was you needed to let out. He didn't think you needed a lecture but it seemed you just needed a space to let go.

Once you were done and able to explain what was going on, Leo would listen to you and wipe your tears away. Only when you were calmer would he say anything to you.

"I know I can't really give you any advice. Can I at least make you some tea or hot chocolate? Or would you like to nap? I'll sit with you."

Raph:

We all know he can be abrasive and have no regard for what's going on in other's lives at times. He still, however, can tell by body language or aura something isn't right. You don't have to outright say you're overwhelmed or say that you just can't figure out what's wrong. He can tell just by how you're acting that you're going through a bit of a rough patch.

You aren't touching the dinner Mikey made and you're not talking. You just said you were tired and not hungry, but Raph knew something was up. He hated being left out of the loop, he had to know. Instead of asking in front of everyone, he decided to pull you aside and ask you privately.

At first, you were adament that you were just tired, but Raph was persistent. You cracked and just broke down. He's emotionally aware enough to be dangerous so he became a lot softer. He pulled you to his plastron and rubbed your back. Big brother/soft boyfriend mode would take over and he would just let you fall apart. He prefers listening over fixing in these moments.

Raph doesn't like seeing people cry and depending on the circumstances, he may even cry with you. He doesn't like seeing anyone he cares about in pain, especially emotional pain. He will make it his personal business to get even with the person who hurt you, or do his best to try and make you feel better if you're just having a bad day.

When you calmed down enough, he'd make a joke about how red your face was to try and make you smile. If that didn't work, he would just offer to listen to whatever was on your mind until you felt better.

"Listen, I know it's bad now but I promise ya it'll be okay. How's about we watch a movie? I can make ya a snack if ya want."

Donnie:

Like Leo, Donnie isn't good at emotions. The only difference between the two is that the purple bandana sporting turtle always knows. He always knows when something isn't right, a lot of the time even before Raph. By nature, he's very calm and collected. However, when your world seems to be crumbling, his intelligence seems to fly out the window.

It was something he couldn't fix and you knew he couldn't fix. You just needed someone to listen to you and let you get it out. It was eating you alive and you couldn't take it anymore. You had to tell someone.

You wondered into his lab and told him you needed to talk to him. He continued working and told you to say what was on your mind. He paid attention, he could multitask like a king, but it wasn't until your tone shifted that he turned all his focus on you. Your eyes were becoming glossier and your face was turning red. You were about to start crying and he internally panicked.

He wasn't the biggest on physical affection, but even he needs a hug at times. Depending on the status of your relationship, he would offer you a hug. Donnie's arms stretched out and he motioned for you to come to him. You laid your head on his plastron and cried. He rubbed your back and just let you cry. You seemed like you needed it.

Donnie offered you a tissue and sat back down in his chair. He pulled his extra one over to you and offered you to sit. If he couldn't fix it, at least he could offer a distraction.

"I'm sorry that you're upset. If you'd like, you can help me with the retro mutegen? Or maybe the shell razor? You pick."

Mikey:

He's emotionally intelligent and emotionally aware. He's very observant and can tell when something's up, but will believe you if you tell him you're tired. It wouldn't be until that you yourself stop believing you're just tired that Mikey realizes something's bothering you. He doesn't fix it, but instead he tries to comfort you as best he can.

You had been feeling off all day and didn't know why, you woke up that way. You hated the world and you felt like it hated you too. You told Mikey you were tired but you got tired of that lie really fast.

You and him were playing video games when it hit you all of a sudden. You felt your chest tighten and then the next thing you knew, you were crying. He quickly disregarded the game and hugged you, trying to get you to tell him what was wrong. Naturally, he's a very affectionate guy. He was petting your hair and rubbing your back before you could even start sobbing.

Once Mikey realized he didn't have to go into protective boyfriend/friend mode, he went quiet. He knew that right now, you just needed a minute. You were obviously overwhelmed and he didn't want to add to that by hounding you with questions. He didn't like seeing you this way but obviously you needed to allow yourself this moment, and he would wait until you were ready.

He wiped your tears and kissed your forehead. He kept his arm around you and rubbed your back, letting you know that you were safe with him. He just wanted to show that he was there for you.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I got you. Wanna watch a movie? Or maybe I can teach you some skateboard tricks? Your choice.

#rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt ask blog #tmnt bayverse #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #ask blog #tmnt 2003 #tmnt headcanons #tmnt imagine

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lewdlodge · 23 days

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Lately I’ve been thinking about having a phrogger in your house. Originally they meant to stay for just a day or two, but as they watched you glide throughout your house completely carefree in nothing but panties, more sinister thoughts came to their mind:

Normally you stay up late playing video games, and watching your favorite shows. Indulging in a couple beers throughout the night. Oddly, the past few nights you’ve been getting extremely sleepy after just one. At first you think it is just the all nighters finally catching up. But, on the third night, you wake up with your panties gone and a wet spot on the bed.

It’s impossible to explain it though, you just shove it to the back of your mind, and wash the now dirty sheets. The next night arrives and you try your damndest to stay awake. You manage to obtain an extra 30 minutes before you’re completely knocked out. However, this night is different, you slightly wake up a bit in the middle of the night.

The shaking of the bed causes you to try to open your eyes, but they feel too heavy. You manage to get them open just enough to see a shadowy figure hovering over you, but then you fall back asleep. The next morning your head is pounding, and you can’t remember if what you saw was a dream or real. You decide it’s best to shrug it off as another one of the dark fantasies you dream about occasionally.

During the day that dream doesn’t leave your mind. Keeping you in a constant emotional state of fear and neediness. Right before dinner you hear a bang in the ceiling, so loud you thought a tree landed on the house. Getting nervous, you call your guy best friend over, hoping he’ll help you feel safe.

The next night comes around and as usual you’re knocked out early. When you wake up your body is ravaged. Your shirt is ripped open, legs spread, and cum leaking out of you. Naturally, you freak out. “How the hell did I not wake up?”. You look at your “best friend”, blaming him for taking advantage of you in your sleep. The police get involved, arresting him, and allowing you to spend a few nights at the station to feel safe. When you recover from the experience you find yourself back at the house.

It’s terrifying, but you have nowhere else to go. Because of all that’s happened you find yourself drinking more, intoxicated and unable to even stand without a prop. A couple hours pass and you slowly wake up to the sounds of moans in the background. You attempt to reach for the tv remote, assuming it’s just some movie. But, your arm is clung tightly to your back. Your heart begins to pound and suddenly your hangover is cured. Your eyes open and immediately drift to the living room TV in front of you.

You watch intently for a moment, terrified of the realization. “That’s me?” You begin frantically attempting to break out of the restraints you’re placed in. Then you freeze. A creak in the floorboard occurred behind you. “Oh, is my doll finally awake?”

He slowly walks towards you, and you can’t help but jump as each loud footstep slams against the floor. Your mind blanks, and before you know it he has your face firmly in his hand. “Hi beautiful, do you like our movie?” He delivers a kiss to your forehead, and places himself directly behind you, his hands slowly exploring your body.

“I’ve so been looking forward to this, I knew you loved me when you intoxicated yourself last-night. I knew you needed me.” His fingers start to softly rub your clit, and you burst into tears. “P-please. Don’t hurt me.”

He lets out a gasp, “I would never hurt you. I only want to give you pleasure. Look at the movie. See how good you feel.” Suddenly a loud moan of yours comes from the TV. One you never remember screaming. “J-just. Please don’t do this.”, you murmur.

His fingers hasten on your parts. “You’re just being dumb. Here. Let me show you daddy’s love.” His firm dirty hand grips your face, forcing you to watch the TV in front. His other hand never stops rubbing you relentlessly. Unfortunately, it feels good. “Watch”, he commands. Your body is shaking, not feeling strong enough to disobey. “Yes, I’ll watch.”

Previously your eyes would not dare watch the TV. You only listened to the sounds. But, now that there is no choice you begin to question yourself. In the movie you’re doing as your told. Opening your legs and mouth when commanded. Moving your hips into his thrusts. You love it. The tape skips forward a bit, cutting to the night your best-friend took advantage of you. It all clicks in your mind.

You watch intently as this strange man fucks you violently right beside your best friend. He gropes your chest and kisses your lips mere feet away from the person you blamed it all on. The movie ends right as he shoves himself deep inside you, filling you with his cum. You just watched yourself get breed by an unknown man, yet, your parts are even more soaked. His fingers are starting to build you up, and you can’t help yourself. “P-please, can I cum?” He lets out a laugh, kissing and then biting your neck. “Cum, doll.”.

As you let go you feel yourself becoming brainwashed. It feels so good, but his fingers still never stop. You need more and right now he can give it. “What are you princess?”, he whispers. Without hesitation you reply in a monotone voice, “I’m your cum doll daddy. Please, please fill me up.”

He forces you facedown into the floor and fucks your holes until dawn. This time not even giving you the decency of cleaning up. He simply leaves you on the floor covered in filth. This time there is no doubt it’s real. But, how can you be sure? What’s one more night, just to be positive. It may have all been a dream.

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w1ldthoughts · 3 months

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Dad and Mini’s Weekend

Anon Requested! One more little treat before I go back to school tomorrow😅

Disclaimer: this is a work of FICTION, the characters are fictionalized versions of real life situations and real people. It’s all based on my imagination.

Masterlist

You were grateful to have a job that was flexible. Before you had Remi, you were in the office probably 3-4 days a week and could work from home the rest of the time which allowed you to travel to away games and support Justin as much as possible, while still having a career of your own. Now that you had a daughter to think about, things were different. You were different. But that doesn’t mean that the work doesn’t stop. So when you had to leave town for a weekend work conference in Chicago, you thanked your lucky stars that it was the offseason.

“Do you need help packing? You know I have a little experience with it.” Justin smiles, looking down at your suitcase. He really was an expert, packing all three of your bags whenever you went on vacation. It was the most efficient folding job you’d ever seen. The man grabbed all of your essentials, easily placing them in their rightful places and zipping it up without breaking a sweat. His tidiness and attention to detail had become even more attractive since you became parents, it really came in handy.

“Are you sure the two of you are gonna be okay? I mean I can call—”

He waves you off. “We’re gonna be fine! She already has a plan for everything we’re gonna do. I just need to follow it. She did say I could come up with stuff to do on Monday though so I have some fun things planned.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard all about these plans,” you sigh, looking at your suitcase. “Remi barely said goodbye to me this morning. She was so busy telling me about how fun this weekend is going to be. Giving me FOMO.”

He grabs your bags and heads downstairs with you to put them in the car. “Please, you’re going to work for a couple hours and sightsee the rest of the time. But seriously, go enjoy yourself. You deserve a little break, she’s cute but I’m convinced she’s got a battery pack attached to her. She’s never tired.”

“I know,” you pat him on the back and give him a kiss. “And hasn’t taken a nap in weeks, so good luck with that. I’ll see you on Monday afternoon. Love you.”

“Love you too baby. See you on Monday but we’ll probably call you tonight before bed, I’m sure she’ll be missing you already.” He closes your car door and gives you one last peck before heading inside.

“Daddy, can I have some choclate milk?” Remi asks, sitting in her chair at the kitchen counter.

“What’s the magic word?” He says, waiting for her to understand what he was getting at.

“Oh…please!”

He nods and grabs her pink sippy cup, filling it up and handing it to her after she says “thank you.”

The duo sits on the couch in the living room to watch Cars, the first thing on Remi’s list. He figured she was tired after preschool because she not only skipped her nap when she got home but she also barely ate dinner. Usually she’d be up and running around while the movie played in the background but tonight she was focused, cuddled into his side with her eyes glued to the screen. Nova was sitting at her feet, fast asleep. After the movie was over, it was time for their bedtime routine. Remi took a bath, got to pick out her favorite pajamas and read three books. Before he could turn off the lights and sing the bedtime song, Remi asked him why he calls her “mini.”

He tells her to wait a second and that he’ll be right back. Justin comes back into her room with a mirror in his hands. Holding it up to her, he says, “look at us, you look just like me. You’re my mini me. My mini.” She grabs the mirror out of his hands and looks at the two of them side by side. “See? We have the same eyes, same nose and—smile? That little hole in your cheek? It’s called a dimple. I have one too. And when I was little my hair was blonde just like yours.”

“We match daddy. We’re the same!”

“We are the same,” he tucks her in, grabbing her favorite stuffed animal, a gray bear named ‘Muffin’ so she can hold onto him while she sleeps. He turns on the white noise machine and the night light before turning off the main lights and walking back towards the bed. Justin kisses his daughter on the forehead and both of her cheeks and she wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. “Nighty night mini, sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. I love you.”

“No bugs can come in here silly. Nighty night daddy,” she yawns. “Love you.”

He had just barely closed his eyes when he heard her on the monitor and he rushed into her room to check on her. “What’s wrong baby?”

“I miss mama.” The tremble in her voice makes his chest hurt.

“Come here,” he sighs as she crawls into his lap. “How about you sleep in mama’s spot tonight? Would that make you feel better?”

She nods slowly, sleep still laced all over her features. He carries her into the room and places her in your usual spot and he can hear her giggle a bit.

“What’s so funny?”

“This pillow smells like mama. Like she’s right here.” She whispers in shock and he shakes his head in amusement, both of them drifting off to sleep with smiles on their faces.

The next day, Remi wanted to get into her costume. She’d been watching a lot of Spidey and his Amazing Friends and was convinced that she was Gwen Stacey aka Ghost Spider. So when her grandparents bought her a costume, she wore it pretty much daily. And her dad had to be Thor…for obvious reasons. The superheroes saved the city from the green goblin’s plan to turn everyone into hamsters and then they had to save Muffin from Doctor Octopus’ evil lair.

“We make a pretty good team, Spider Gwen.” Justin says, putting the Thor hammer on the couch.

“It’s Ghost Spider daddy.” She corrects him.

“Oh I'm sorry Ghost Spider. How about you take your costume off and we take a little snack break? Superheroes need food to keep up their energy.”

After enjoying her apple slices with peanut butter, Remi headed off to her playroom to draw while Justin cleaned up the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to scramble to find things while making dinner.

He finds her sitting at the table, peacefully scribbling on a piece of paper until she gestures for him to sit down in the tiny chair. Taking a look at the chair, Justin is about to tell her he won’t fit before she cuts in like she was reading his mind.

“You can fit daddy. You not too big for it.” The chair is surprisingly a lot stronger than he thought, but he doesn’t want to push it so he settles down on the floor next to her chair, giving her his undivided attention. He’d spent so many days growing up looking up to his dad and trying to put into place the lessons that he learned from him but never in his wildest dreams did he think about how rewarding it would be to have his own child. This little blonde perfect being was his and the love he had for her was out of this world. It really felt like a piece of his heart was just living outside of his body, sitting there mindlessly drawing pictures that would inevitably end up in his locker as a reminder of what really mattered.

For dinner he made her some salmon, sweet potato fries, broccoli and some mangoes. As he was cooking, he played some music and Remi suggested they have a dance party.

“What do you wanna listen to mini?” He asks, holding the phone.

She stands next to him with a serious look on her face, furrowing her eyebrows in deep thought. “The Cars song please!”

Remi starts jumping up and down as “Life is a Highway” plays on the speakers. She grabs his hand pulling him away from putting food on her plate so he can dance with her. Justin watches intently as she wiggles her arms and shakes her little body as she pleases and joins in, imitating her moves and singing along. If he could bottle up these tiny moments he would and he’d savor them just to be able to look back on them in the future because his mini was already growing up too fast.

His point was proven on Sunday afternoon when Remi suggested they make slime or “swime” because she learned how to do it in preschool last week and made you stop at the store to get all the necessary supplies. Although he was secretly looking forward to this little science project with her, it was just another reminder that she was much closer to kindergarten than she was to the newborn stage. He followed the detailed directions that Remi got from school and added glue and food coloring to a bowl and let her stir.

“Do you wanna add in the baking soda?” He hands her the spoon and she dumps it into the bowl.

“Uh oh daddy I spilled. I need a tissue.”

“It's okay, we can clean it up when we’re done. You can keep mixing, you’re doing so well.” Justin runs a hand down her ponytail, proud of himself for successfully getting it all, even if it took him three tries. In his defense, Remi had a lot of hair to work with. “Next, we need to add some of this saline solution and mix it with our hands. Are you ready?”

Remi rolls up her sleeves with her dad’s help and digs into the bowl, kneading the slime with so much joy in her face. The orange slime came out gooey and perfect and they played with it for a while, cleaning everything up together when they were done.

By the time they reached Monday, he was exhausted. But he was in charge of their big activity today and he really wanted to close out this daddy-daughter weekend on a good note. They got in the car and drove to a local marsh about 20 minutes away from the house. He helped her out of the car and they walked towards the hiking trail. “Okay mini, mama’s gonna be home in a few hours so I thought we could do a scavenger hunt. Do you know what a scavenger hunt is?”

She shakes her head no but looks very intrigued.

“I have this egg carton that you helped me paint the other day and we’re going to find things that match the color. So in the pink part we need to look around and find something pink. Think we can do that?”

Remi puts her fist up in the air and it really reminds him of himself, “yeah, let’s go!”

As they worked on completing the rainbow scavenger hunt, Justin went down memory lane for a bit. “A long long time ago, I used to go outside with uncle Mitch and uncle Patrick and we used to collect things. Sometimes we would even bring home little animals like tiny frogs and lizards.”

“Ew daddy! Those are swimey.” She exclaims, gasping when she spots a bright red flower to add to her collection. “I like this game.” Remi hugs one of his legs, holding out her hand so they could keep exploring. Along the path he would look up the flowers based on colors and tell her the names so she could try to repeat them to her best ability. He told her about how someday soon they’d have to go fishing together so he could show her how it’s done. She was just excited to be on the boat again.

Before he knew it, you were texting him to let him know you were picking up dinner on your way home and the two of them found their last items as fast as they could and walked back to the car. You were already in the house when they got home and Remi ran into your arms immediately, not wanting to let go.

“Oh hi sweet cookie, did you have fun with daddy?”

“Uh huh, daddy is the best! I love him,” she mumbles into your shoulder.

“I love him too, he’s pretty great isn’t he. You’re so lucky sugar, you have the best daddy in the whole world.” Justin walks up to you and wraps his arms around both of you, sandwiching Remi in the middle. He gives you a kiss on the cheek and kisses the top of the toddler’s head. “So…tell me everything. What did you and daddy do?”

She takes a deep breath and you know you’re in for a long story. You catch your husband’s eyes and he shoots you a tight lipped smile as he goes back outside to your car to get your bags inside. Remi doesn’t let you go as you walk her to the couch.

“It was sooooo fun…” she begins, telling you every single detail without missing a beat.

#Justin Herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #Justin Herbert fanfic

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miela · 8 months

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Shattered Memories • Chapter II: A Sense of Reunion • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: Fluffy (touches of angst, comedy and sexual tension if you squint) Chapter Warnings: None (?) Extra Content: added in another OC Masterlist

↪ divider by firefly-graphics

It was another boring weekend.

Peter had just gotten home from his busy yet uneventful day at school, work, and visiting his Aunt May’s grave…his usual routine that hadn’t changed much in the past few years. After watching the Stark Expo a month ago he wasn’t really up for doing anything with his friends much. He spent most of his free time studying and patrolling as Spiderman to distract himself from his racing thoughts. He knew it wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but he really didn’t know how to deal with it.

It's not like he can tell them anything about what happened. They would probably think something is wrong with him. Imagine telling someone hey so I'm Spiderman and I really fucked up because I had to make everyone including the love of my life forget who I am because I got a sorcerer to cast to spell to save the multiverse from collapsing in on itself due to me trying to fix something that somehow I caused and five years later I see said love of my life thriving and living her best life and she has no idea who I am.

Kinda sucks to have no one to talk to about this.

He unlocked the door to his small apartment with his key and walked inside with a sigh of relief but as soon as he stepped into his humble abode. Home, sweet home. He thought to himself as he set his keys and backpack down on the raggedy chair that was by his door. All he could think about was what he was going to get for dinner, what movie he was going to watch, and what he would expect on patrols that night.

But then his senses started to tingle.

The hairs on his body stood up. His senses quickly perked up and he looked towards the direction of the living room. The sense wasn't coming from outside or next door. It was coming from inside of his very apartment.

Just his luck. Somebody’s here.

His senses led him to quietly walk over to where the threat was in the living room. It wasn’t a sense he felt in a long time and honestly, he didn’t like that. It worried him. What if it was one of his enemies from his avenger days? What if it was somebody robbing him (not that there was much to steal)? His thoughts raced as he quietly tip-toed toward the living room.

He quickly and quietly equipped his web shooters onto his wrists and stayed alert as he made his way around the corner. The closer he got the stronger his senses became… like they were pulling him towards the potential threat.

He hoped it was the neighbor's cat or something.

When he saw someone standing in his living room he didn’t even process who it was before he shot a web their way sticking their arm to the wall behind them with a thud. The figure yelped and looked at him with wide eyes.

He froze when he saw who it was.

It was you.

Peter’s expression was one of a deer in headlights.

“(Y/N)...” He said softly.

Peter could not believe his eyes as he took in your appearance. You looked absolutely gorgeous. You were still you but your features filled in the most beautiful way. Your hair was different than before, and you were wearing a face full of makeup and your style was a bit edgier than before but it wasn’t anything Peter was surprised by. You always talked about experimenting with your style and the aesthetic you rocked now made sense to him.

And you were here.

You wore a black sheer floral lace top with a black bralette underneath topped with a loose leather jacket, black fitted jeans with a black velvet belt with a golden lion head as the buckle, a a pair of black Doc Martens that he remembers Ghostface wearing in Scream VI when you two watched it together. He smiled when he saw them as he remembered how you and Celina bought them immediately after seeing the movie. You had golden rings of various sizes and styles on your fingers and your fingernails were painted a dark teal color that reflected gold. Your makeup was something Peter was not used to seeing on you. You had thick eyeliner on with a rustic color on your eyelids. Your lips were painted a warm rose color.

You looked like a million dark lady bucks and it was messing with Peter’s head.

And you were here. In his shitty apartment.

"First name basis already?” You asked, lifting your brows with a small smirk. “Wow, we’re moving so fast.”

Peter was so stunned that he couldn't move. He wanted to pinch himself and make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. He thought he was having an out-of-body experience.

“Hello,” you sang, waving a hand in the view of his vision. “Earth to Parker.”

“Huh? What?” he asked, shaking his head a little bit and coming back to reality.

“Hi!” you chimed. “I asked if you could give me a hand,” You eyed your hand webbed to the wall.

“Oh…!” Peter exclaimed. “Oh god I’m so sorry-!”

He took the webbing off and you rubbed your wrist in your hand gently. “Thank you.”

“Sorry for that…” he said again and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Nah,” You said. “I came into your apartment like some creepy ass stalker or something. You really shouldn’t leave your window unlocked.”

Oh.

“No, yeah!” Peter started. “I mean….um….I just…” Peter struggled to find the right words as he simultaneously struggled to find the right way to react to you being here.

It reminded him of the first time Tony came to visit him.

“…W-what are you doing here?” was all he could muster up.

You smile softly and cocked your head to the side. Fuck, your smile. He missed your smile so much.

“You’re Spiderman, right?”

Peter’s eyes went wide again and he blinked rapidly. “Uh…”

You took out your phone and showed him a video from YouTube of Spiderman stopping a bus from hitting a child who ran into the street to grab a ball and then another video from TikTok of him helping a kitten down from a tree for another child. He looked from your phone screen to you.

“That’s pretty impressive. I’m a big fan honestly.” You smiled. “And that doesn’t sound exactly appropriate after I just climbed into your window. I promise I’m not a parasocial boundary-breaking dickwad.”

“No, no…I know!” Peter replied quickly. “Uh…what makes you think I’m that guy? Isn’t he like a criminal or something?” His voice was more nervously high-pitched than he would like.

“You just webbed me to the wall.”

Peter facepalmed himself mentally. You Idiot.

“And don’t say some shit like ‘I make his web shooters’ or anything like that.” You added with a mocking deep voice on the web shooter bit. “You’re Spiderman.”

“...Yes,” Peter replied, deciding it was better not to fight it.

You smiled and hummed in amusement and turned your head to the side again eyeing him up and down for a moment. Peter gave you a thin-lipped smile with no real emotion behind it. He was still unsure of how to respond to any of this. A big part of him knew that you didn’t remember him but a small part of him wished you did.

“Well,” you began. “I didn’t just come here to confirm your hero status. I wanted to make you an offer.”

“Oh? O-okay.”

“So, I was going through my father’s files for internships and scholarships and your name came up as an option. It says you wanted to go to MIT but you go to ESU, right?”

Peter nodded. “I do.”

“What changed your mind?”

"Well," Peter started. "I can't be the friendly neighborhood Spiderman when I'm not in the neighborhood."

You giggled. "Fair."

He missed the sound of your voice. It was music to his ears right now and he didn’t want you to stop talking but you guys looked at each other for a silent moment before you spoke again.

“Are you busy?” you asked him after a moment.

“Huh?” he responded. “Right now? Uh…n-no. Not at all,” He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “Usually you’re out patrolling around this time….Not that I would know that or anything! Why would I? I wouldn’t! Pfft…that’s why that’s why I asked if you were busy or not….heh….”

Peter smiled softly to himself. You were keeping tabs on him. If it were anyone else it would’ve concerned him a big amount but it was you so he found it endearing….and it gave him hope. He was used to hearing about this behavior from you. When you both were bitten by the spider, you had discovered him on YouTube and watched all of his videos before you knew he was Peter Parker. He wasn’t gonna lie, it gave him a bit of an ego boost.

“No, I’m not busy right now. I can patrol later.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

You smiled bigger. “Great!” and walked towards the door. “You’re coming with me.”

"Oh, Wh…?" Peter blinked rapidly. "Wh-where are we going, exactly?"

"That's classified."

Peter looked at you silently for a moment.

“You’ve been there before,” You replied, rolling your eyes playfully. “It will be in public, mostly. I’m not trying to kidnap you, Spidey.”

“The last time I went somewhere classified it nearly destroyed the entire universe,” he mumbled to himself.

“I’m not taking you to space or to some underground S.H.I.E.L.D. facility or some random place in the world to fight off bad guys, I promise, I just wanna show you the offer in person.” You explained. “On my dad’s iron grave.”

Peter decided to trust you on that and walked out of the apartment with you. He closed and locked his door and turned to you to be met with your gentle smile that he adored so much.

“(Y/N),” You started and held your hand out to him. “(Y/N) Stark.”

He knew that you knew that he knew who you were. He also knew that you knew who he was. But this was just part of your whimsical humor that he missed so much.

He looked at your hand for a moment and smiled softly. “Peter. Peter Parker.” He took it gently.

And that is when he felt it. The feeling he hasn’t felt in so long. Most people would call it sparks, butterflies, vibrational attraction, whatever. But he knew better. He knew that it was different for you two. You had the same radioactive arachnid DNA running through your veins and from both of your research, it was like a magnet whenever you guys were near.

Pheromones.

He remembered the day you were in the lab studying and researching why you felt so…attracted to him and why it seemed to get stronger and stronger the more you guys spent together. It was different from crushing on each other. You wanted to know why you felt a gravitational pull towards each other that was different from what you felt from other people.

"Parker, I need your blood." You told him one day, in front of everyone at the Avenger’s compound.

"....Excuse me?" He asked, confused and his mouth full of a bite of his sandwich.

"Oh god, she's morphing into an actual spider," Nat joked.

"Watch out, kid, she's gonna harvest you one day," Bucky added.

You gave them both a horrified look. "First of all, no. Second of all, hell no." You crossed your arms and stood in contrapposto. "It's for science, thank you very much."

"Oh yeah, sure, science," Sam smirked.

You rolled your eyes with a blush on your cheeks and turned to a still-confused Peter who was still paused mid-chew.

"Relax," you said. "We were bitten by the same spider, right? I wanna see how it affects us differently."

“Oh!” He chimed. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that too! I think it’s totally unfair that you can spin your own webs naturally and I can’t so I wanna know what makes us different too.”

You both had gone into the lab and ran some tests with the help of Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner. That is how you found out about your differences as spider mutants and your connection.

Pheromonal Connection.

It was obvious that you felt it too because the expression on your face softened as your hands touched and eyes met. Your (E/C) eyes were looking into his dark brown eyes so deeply like you were trying to merge your thoughts together.

Man, he wanted to kiss you so bad. Just like all those years ago.

For a moment, Peter lost control and he began leaning in and you followed before you blinked rapidly and removed your hand from his to lay your hand on your forehead as you made a soft noise of pain with a wince and a hiss.

“Damn it…!” You hissed out softly.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been fighting these stupid migraine episodes for most of my adulthood.”

Peter frowned as his face furrowed. You saw his expression and you smiled softly.

“Stark Stress.” You explained with a shrug and a lopsided grin and a small roll of your eyes like it was no big deal. “I’ve been Owner and CEO of Stark Industries officially for two months and everything and everyone is taking years off of my lifespan.”

Peter chuckled at that. “I’ll bet. Do you need any meds before we go?”

“Nah, thank you though.” You smiled. “No type of medicine can get rid of annoyance.”

Peter hummed in response and you both walked down and out of the apartment complex. There was a black large luxury SUV with a stoic-faced man standing with his hands folded in front of him. He had dark sunglasses on but Peter could tell he was looking at him suspiciously.

He recognized him as Happy Hogan.

What you didn’t know is that they knew each other already from visiting Aunt May’s grave. They had run into each other over the years visiting the cemetery.

“Hey,” Peter said and waved to him but Happy didn’t respond and just kept looking at him through his dark shades. It made Peter a little uneasy.

You let out a deep sigh. “Okay, Cobra Bubbles, you can stop staring him down now.” You said to him. “He’s just a friend of mine.”

Just a friend. Oh, if only you knew.

Peter wanted to laugh at your sarcasm but kept his composure. Happy opened the door for both of you. You climbed inside and Peter followed you after avoiding Happy’s not-so-happy gaze and giving a soft thanks to him. The interior of the SUV was set up like a limo with seats that faced each other. You sat on one end and Peter sat on the other end. As Happy got into the car and began driving you two looked at each other.

“So where are we heading?” Peter asked again hoping to get some clarity.

“Midtown Manhattan,” you replied as you grabbed an icepack from a cooler compartment that Peter hadn’t noticed until now. You put the ice pack on your forehead.

He realized where you were taking him. “We’re going to the tower.”

“Bingo,” you sang. “I couldn’t tell you inside your apartment. You never know who’s listening. And the car is soundproof. Not Even Happy can hear us right now.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at you as if to ask ‘Oh really?’

“Head out of the gutter, Parker,” you smirked. “That’s not the reason why I made it soundproof, but let me know if you ever need to borrow it. Just make sure you don’t make a mess.”

“Oh my god,” Peter chuckled. “No, god no.”

Not unless it’s with you. He thought, but even then he wouldn’t feel comfortable knowing Happy of all people would be the one driving.

The rest of the ride was pretty chill. You asked him about school and he answered honestly.

Once you both arrive at the tower you walk inside where employees instantly begin greeting you as you walk by. Peter hadn’t been inside the tower in so long that he forgot what it looked like. It was busier than he remembered but that makes sense since so many years have passed since he's been here last.

A girl with flaming reddish-orange hair, freckles dancing across her cheeks and nose and bright eyes came rushing up to you with a frantic look in her doe-eyes. "Miss Stark!" She exclaimed in a soft voice as she tried to keep up with you two.

You sighed. "Nika, I told you to call me (Y/N), ‘Miss Stark’ makes me sound scary."

"It makes you sound like the powerful CEO of this very distinguished company," the redhead corrected. "But I need you to confirm the list of foundations that are going to be present at the charity gala next month."

You groaned. "Nika, it's my day off."

"Yes, yes, I know," she replied with a sigh. "But you, the owner of the company, which means you don’t actually get a day off, especially right now. This event was your idea, (Y/N).”

“Yes, I know, I know,” You sighed as you arrived by the Elevators. “I’ll look over it tonight.”

Nika gave you a warning look and then looked to Peter giving him a one-over with her eyes. She didn’t look impressed or amused.

“I better have it by seven. Or else I’ll make up for your incompetence and...distractions” She didn’t take her hard, glaring eyes off of Peter once, but he was addressing you.

“Nika,” you said in a warning voice. “Stand down. He’s not a distraction. He’s an Avenger. He’s here on Business, not pleasure.”

“I thought it was your day off,” Her eyes flashed back to you.

You pressed your lips together before speaking. “Nika, I'll have the list for you by seven.”

Nika smiled with no real emotion behind it. “Good girl, enjoy your day off.”

And with that, she walked off. Peter looked at you in shock.

“She’s a friend of mine and she takes her job very, very seriously,” you explain as you two stepped on the elevator.

“I don’t think she likes me very much.” Peter rubbed the back of his head.

“Not true,” you defended as you put your eye up to the scanner and a green bar that flashed ‘Access Granted’ with your ID information appeared on the screen. “She doesn’t like distractions.”

“So, I’m a distraction?”

“Nah,” you replied, shaking your head and leaning on the wall of the elevator with your arms crossed and one leg crossed over the other. “That’s unless you want to be.”

You both eyed each other as you both dodged the elephant in the room that eludes to the earlier events right outside of his apartment door. Peter wished he knew what you were thinking at this moment because he knew what he was thinking. He desperately wanted to feel you under his hands as he felt his lips dance with yours. He wondered if you had a similar thought.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened.

Peter cleared his throat and flickered his eyes away from you. “Ladies first.”

You blinked rapidly as you looked away from him took a deep breath and walked off of the platform.

Peter, he had to compose himself, and little did he know that you did too.

Once you both walked off and maneuvered around the familiar place, you led him to a conference room that looked very similar to the one at the Avenger’s compound. Peter looked around for a moment before you stopped in your tracks.

“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest,” you stated.

Peter looked over at you wondrously as he tensed lightly. His senses didn’t sense danger but for some reason, he felt nervous all of a sudden. You turned to him with an expression that he couldn’t read, but your word wasn’t something he was prepared for.

“Peter,” you spoke again. “I know who you are.”

He looked at you as he could have sworn his heart stopped. “What?” His voice was almost a whisper.

“I know who you are.”

Tags: @riordanness

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lxstfathier · 5 months

Text

Fortune Teller

Mark Hamill x Time Traveler! Reader

Summary: after spending most of your life traveling in time and teletransportating everywhere you ever wanted, you decide to stay in a certain year, not knowing that it would result in getting romantically involved with one of your favorite actors during his rise to fame.

Warnings: some death and human experimenting mentions, but nothing too bad, mostly it’s just fluff :)

A/N: omg it took me more than a whole month to write this but it’s finally ready! and probably it’s not 100% accurate to what happened in Mark’s life but hey, it’s fiction, so i hope that you all enjoy it anyways!! love you guys!! 💗✨

People often think that time traveling and teletransportation is fun, and it is, but after some time it gets… boring.

You discovered your unique abilities when you were just a teenager, basically still a kid, quickly learning how to control those weird moments in which you could just appear in any year or place that you wanted by simply snapping your fingers.

Since then, you visited every city that you ever dreamed of, every year that seemed interesting, and witnessed some historic events with your own eyes, better than any history book.

But now? You decided to calm down for a while, staying in 1976 to live in San Diego for a few months until you can decide what city is the next one in your map.

You have a lot of money for the moment, going back to 1898 to steal diamonds and gold was an easy task, so you don’t have much to worry about, just focusing on burning off your small fortune and have fun around. Maybe you should go to the comic con this evening? you have seen the flyers on every street, and it looks like a good plan for a saturday.

Yeah, you love comics, you have a big collection, but the real reason to go would be to see Mark Hamill in his youth. You remember watching a lot of his movies when you were still a normal kid, so it would be nice to catch a glimpse of him before all that fame hits him like a lightning strike.

After thinking about it all morning, you decide to go.

And half an hour later you’re already walking down the street, wearing some cute clothes and a little bit of makeup, not expecting much more than being just another nerd from the bunch.

The streets are calm, not as busy as they usually are, and everyone seems to enjoy a good time under the bright afternoon sun. But when you get to the comic con then it is a different story. There’s more people than you expected and a tedious long line to get tickets.

However, you don’t have anything better to do, so you wait, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, simply watching everything around you.

Finally, after some long minutes, you buy your ticket and get in, excited to see how it goes and what new things you can add to your collection.

It’s not a big place, but it’s not small either. There’s a lot of stands with comics for sale, booths with merch for the newest movies, autograph signings from famous illustrators, and of course, the main stage for the press conferences.

Sadly, that stage is still empty, so you still have a lot of time to look around. And that’s exactly what you do, calmly checking out the comics and merch, even more when you get to the star wars table, delighted to be able to see that vintage logo, the small x-wing figures, the printed shirts and the posters and photos.

So, without thinking it twice, you buy a few of those things, hoping that maybe, with a little bit of luck, you’ll get them autographed and then go back to 2030 to sell them for a fortune.

Suddenly, the people cheering and loud voices through the speakers snap you out of your thoughts. The press conference for star wars has started and you’re still away, too lost inside your own mind to realize that you’ve missed the first few minutes.

Taking you newest purchases in your hands, you quickly make your way to the main stage and sit on the last row of chairs. It’s not super near like the front row, but you can perfectly see everything, to the microphones, to the pretty blonde boy who can’t keep still as the two other men answer questions about the movie.

And you never expected Mark Hamill to look that good. You’ve seen famous singers, models, or even roman emperors with your own eyes, but none of them compares to him. He is literally hypnotic, almost like a cosmic being, and now it makes sense of why they chose him to play a hero from another galaxy.

His face, his smile, his everything is just perfect, and with such a beautiful sight the time goes by incredibly fast.

If you could take your phone out to at least have picture of this moment, you would, but you don’t want to attract curious looks from everyone, so you just stare, letting out some dreamy sighs and saving every detail in your own mind.

Once the conference ends, you get up from your seat and walk back to the stands. Perhaps, if you get more lucky, you will find another vintage piece to resell in the future.

And you do, you manage to find some more things that will surely catch a collector’s eye. But when you’re heading to the exit, ready to go back home and call it a day, a familiar blonde hair makes you stop dead in your tracks.

Mark Hamill is there, just a few feets away from you, talking to another man while the other persons walk past the Star Wars stand, oblivious to the fact that they’re ignoring the guy who is about to become an international superstar and the biggest heartthrob of the decade.

And then he looks in your direction, with those piercing blue eyes, smiling slightly, probably finding it cute that you are nervous and not daring to come closer. But how does he expect you to be confident? has he never seen himself in a mirror? he’s the closest thing to an angel and that makes your heart race uncontrollably fast.

“Come say hi, i don’t bite” Mark says, letting out a soft chuckle, his voice kind but teasing.

For a moment you stay still, too impressed with him that you don’t even know what to do. And the fact that he directed a few words to you just makes it worse. In moments like this, you wish that you could be at least a little bit more extroverted and less awkward.

However, you don’t wanna lose the opportunity, so you do your best to approach him and talk normally despite your horrible anxiety.

“Mark, uh- hi, i… i’m one of you biggest fans, been following your career since texas wheelers. Can’t wait to see you in Star Wars.”

Actually, you started following him since you watched the fall of the house of usher as a teenager, but you can’t tell him that for obvious reasons.

And by the way he smiles and tilts his head to the side, it’s not difficult to guess that you’re probably the first fangirl who has come across his path.

“Well, if you liked me in that shitty sitcom, you’re gonna love me in this new movie.” he says, trying his best to lighten the mood.

“Oh, that’s for sure. I’m gonna go the the cinema a couple of times” you answer, as if you didn’t already saw all of his movies on your laptop more than once.

“Sounds like it’s gonna be a total success thanks to you” mark jokes and you smile.

“Star wars is gonna be a success, whether i watch it or not, believe me.”

Mark raises an eyebrow, suspicious as to why would you have so much faith in a new sci-fi movie that not even him believes in.

“How do you know? are you a fortune teller?” he asks.

“Something like that” you say, not wanting to give many details about your weird life. And before he can ask anything else, you hand him the two star wars posters that you just bought an hour ago. “Would you sign this for me? please?”.

He lets out a soft chuckle at your vague answer and then he is kind enough to autograph both of your posters with a black marker, taking his time to write more than just his signature, all while wondering if you are telling the truth or if you just want to mess with him.

Unfortunately, when Mark is almost done signing the second one, another person interrupts him, telling him that someone named Gary is looking for him to discuss some things.

“I need to go” he says, handing you back the two posters. “It was nice meeting you, maybe next time you can tell me the numbers to win the lotto.”

And with that, he just smiles one last time before turning around and getting lost in the crowd. So you stay there a few seconds, incredibly shocked with that first encounter.

His smile and those last words repeat inside your mind over and over again, only for you to realize that yes, he really believes you were messing around with him, but it doesn’t matter to you. The moment was perfect despite his lack of belief.

After that, you just hold the posters against your chest, making your way out of the convention and blushing all the way home.

⋆✮♡✮⋆

The next time you meet him is even more unexpected.

You’re sitting on the warm sand of the Malibu beach, feeling the ocean water on your toes, just having some time to yourself while admiring the beautiful sunset, totally captivated by the bright orange in the horizon.

It’s calm, and soothing. The sound of the waves and the slight breeze allow you to shut down your thoughts and relax for a while.

“I knew that your face was familiar” a male voice interrupts your sacred moment as he sits on the sand next to you. “You’re the fortune teller from the san diego comic con a few weeks ago.”

Of course, that’s a voice that you know quite well. And when you look to your right, Mark is there, talking to you again, looking more handsome than ever with an unbuttoned shirt and golden hair getting messy because of the breeze.

“Yeah it’s me” you answer, slightly confused. “How did you recognize me?”

“Well, someone like you is not easy to forget, you have something… different that makes you stand out from the rest.”

Your heart starts to beat fast again. Hearing him say that you’re unforgettable is more than a dreamy compliment. But, deep down, you know that he probably says that because you are from a different time, you look futuristic, and strange, and that’s what always catches everyone’s attention.

“It’s fine, you can say that i’m weird” you laugh, nervously playing with the sand beneath you.

“No, actually i think you’re quite pretty.”

Your cheeks go red immediately and a dumb smile appears in your lips. What are you supposed to say? you’re too shy to flirt back, so you decide to change the subject.

“What brings you to malibu?”

“I love this place, so i wanna move here” he says, in a more serious tone while looking at the ocean. “What about you?”

“Funny” you say, almost thinking that the coincidences are starting to be too much. “I live here, ten minutes away from the beach.”

“Looks like we’ll be neighbors then” he raises an eyebrow. “I got my eye on a nice property in the shore.”

“Great! come by whenever you need a cup of sugar or whatever”

“I’d probably ask for something more than that.”

With that you just let out a good laugh. If another man said that to you, you’d probably roll your eyes, get up and walk away. But it’s different when it comes to him. And you’ve heard guys say so much worse things in your native years of 2020’s that he almost sounds cute.

“Sure, i can give you some salt too if you need it” you joke around, just to see him smile, with those pearly white teeth and pretty wrinkles on his cheeks. Something that could easily overshadow the incredible sunset.

And you’re too lost in his smile to notice the way he is staring at you, with the same infatuation and curiosity.

“You’re not from here, do you?” Mark asks once the laughter is over. “From the states, i mean.”

There’s that question that everyone always makes. And the one that you always have to lie about. What are you supposed to say? that you are actually from the states but you look different because you were born in 2010 as product between two people who were used for experiments by the government and somehow managed to scape from it? he would call you crazy instead of fortune teller this time.

So you use the same made up story that you created for everyone who asks.

“I was born in spain, but my parents migrated here when i was five. Sadly, they passed away a while ago after i turned sixteen, so now i’m alone in this country.”

“Oh i’m sorry” he says, the smile fading from his face, regretting to touch such a sensitive topic. “I shouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine” you cut him off. Your parents are safe and sound in 2031, living their best life, so you don’t want to bug him with that. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

And that’s all you needed for him to talk for long minutes, with no intention to stop soon. But you can’t complain, his voice is really soothing, and his stories are entertaining, enough for you to listen attentively for some time, just saying one comment occasionally or laughing at his jokes.

Once more you end up being hypnotized by him, exactly like the first time, or is it that you’re just easy to impress with a pretty face? you’re not sure, but when you realize, the sun is completely gone and it has gotten super late.

You need to go home. And Mark, being a total gentleman, offers to walk you there, because there’s no way that he would ever let you go alone, even less at night.

The playful conversation keeps going all the way there, while walking close to each other, almost bumping shoulders. And when you get to your front door, he holds your hand, carefully, as a way to ask you to don’t go inside yet and stay with him just a few seconds more.

“Will i see you tomorrow?” he blurts out, patiently waiting for your answer, with a nervous smile on his lips.

How could you say no to him?

“Probably” you say, feeling your cheeks get burning red. “If not, you know where to find me.”

You really plan on leaving it there, clearly not expecting much else, just a dramatic goodbye to end the night. But before you know it, he pulls you closer, placing a hand on the nape of your neck to lean in for a kiss.

It’s soft and gentle, a quick peck on the lips, and it’s over before you can even realize what happened. But it makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world, with thousands of butterflies fluttering in your stomach and a heart that threatens to get out of your chest.

“Good, cause you still owe me the numbers of the lotto.” He says, returning to his funny side as he lets go of your hand.

But you’re way too shocked by the kiss that you can’t even think of a good comeback. So you just smile and say goodbye to him with a wave of your hand, getting into the safety of your home and immediately closing the door.

Maybe Mark wonders if he overstepped your boundaries. Or maybe he thinks that it’s really cute how you got so flustered. You will never know.

It doesn’t matter, though. You’re so happy that you could burst into tears or giggle to yourself the whole night. Maybe you should even go to 2031 to tell your mom exactly what happened, and she would be happy to know that you finally found a decent man instead of a total jerk.

But first, you need to calm down, and probably listen to some romantic songs while praying that you’re not just another notch in his belt.

⋆✮♡✮⋆

Almost six months later you are nervous as hell. Probably more than that. You are terrified.

It’s only a matter of minutes until you and Mark arrive to the ziegfeld theatre for the star wars premiere in new york, but you’re still stuck in traffic, in the leather backseats of a very luxurious car. And when you look out the window, you can already see loads of people around, which makes you feel extremely overwhelmed.

Obviously, you think that you’re managing that anxiety and nervousness quite well, but you don’t, and Mark can easily tell how you’re not having a good time just by the way your hands play with the seams of your expensive silk dress or the fluff of your synthetic fur stole.

“Take a deep breath, please” he tells you, taking one of your hands between his. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Sure, it’s easy for him to say that when his job is to literally have cameras on his face all the time. He’s used to it, but you’re not. And what scares you the most is that this would be the first time in which you appear together in public as a couple.

What if his fans don’t like you? what if you can’t stand all that sudden attention? what if-

“Please” he repeats himself, squeezing your hand. “Just a few pics and we’ll go inside. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll try” you nod, a shy smile lingering on your lips as you turn your gaze away from the window to look at him.

He looks so calm, and so so handsome. It doesn’t matter if you already watched him getting ready all day, seeing him with that black tuxedo, bow tie and hair combed back, makes your breath falter and your head feel dizzy.

That’s how you realize that you’re screwed. You already fell hard and face first.

Has he fell hard for you too? yes. All this time he has done nothing but prove that he loves you, in ways that you never expected, yet you still can’t comprehend how you managed to pull such a man. It feels unreal.

Minutes later, when you finally arrive to the place, Mark gets out of the car first and then goes to your side to open the door for you, even offering you his hand as an extra help, because he knows that it’s hard to walk with high heels, and also because your legs are trembling due to your nerves.

“I know you can do this, sweetheart” he whispers to you, inviting you to hold on to his arms instead of his hand. “Smile at everyone and that’s it… and please don’t faint.”

You take a deep breath, gather the courage necessary, and then start walking beside him, gripping his arm so hard that you fear to wrinkle his tux.

There’s a lot noise, bright lights everywhere, a multitude of photographers, journalists, press and a much more that doesn’t help with your nerves. It makes you nauseous and sweaty, but you try your best to deal with it, concentrating on Mark and not on anything else.

As soon as you both step on the red carpet, you can practically feel all eyes on you, with the camera flashes immediately going off over and over again. Most of the photographers are focused on Mark, he is the star after all, but some others pay attention to you, the mysterious girl by his side.

And it’s only when you’re being blinded by the intense flashes that you get a slight sense of guilt.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You already messed up his whole timeline. He was supposed to appear on all this pictures with somebody else, with some other girl from his time.

But do you care? not one bit. This is like a dream come true.

And while you’re too deep in your thoughts, posing for the cameras and controlling your nerves, it’s almost impossible for you to notice that soon a few of the photographers find something better to focus on.

This time they don’t point their lenses at Mark, or you, or the expensive clothes that you decided to wear for the occasion…

They’re drawn to the beautiful diamond ring on your left hand.

#mark hamill x reader #mark hamill fanfiction #luke skywalker x reader #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker fanfiction

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greencways · 3 months

Text

I MISS YOU, COME HERE

Emily Prentiss x Female OC (Lola)

wc - 2179

TW // mentions of alcohol, drinking, illness and medication, Lola is 23 and Emily is 27 (4 year age gap)

Your bestfriend Natasha managed to get you both invited to a house party on your campus, you were so excited to finally get to enjoy the full university experience, you were always invited to mini University parties but this one was different, this one was the last one ever, you were 23 so you could get alcohol no problem at all, you had classes the same morning to due to the fact that it landed on a Friday but that just give you all the more reason to be excited for it.

"What's wrong babe? aren't you excited for the party tonight?" Natasha whispered as she slipped in to the lecture seats next to you, your saddened state trying your best to focus on the lecture and to talk to Natasha to distract yourself "you miss Emily" Natasha playfully teased as she nudged your side "that's what it is" she smiled, you and Natasha had been best friends since you could walk and talk, you were practically like sisters at this point, she knew you and you knew her better than you knew yourselves, it was astonishing to see sometimes.

"It's just... I know she's got like a really cool job and I respect that, it's just.... it's Friday now and I haven't heard from her since Tuesday, the least she could've done is ring me and say she's doing okay, you know?" you nodded slowly, Natasha copying you

"I know, but at least you have this party later" Natasha tried to cheer you up.

"I know Tasha" you smiled.

"Hey, how about this" Natasha rubbed your arm in consolation and carried on "how about tomorrow night you come over and we have a sleepover and it can be exactly like the sleepovers we had when we were 10" Natasha grinned.

You turned to her excitedly "You mean, so many movies as we can try to fit in and popcorn and-"

You were cut off by a message coming from your phone, your professor glared at you insinuating that this was your first warning, it didn't help that people around you were staring at you too "Sorry" you shot him a sorry for him to know you meant it "It won't happen again-" you said scrambling to put your phone on silent as, you huffed as you checked the message.

"Hey baby, I'm so sorry this week has been awful, I'm not sure when I can be home but I miss you, say hi to Sergio for me" Emily signed the message with a red heart and a kiss.

"Emily?" Natasha furrowed her brow.

"Mhm" you said as you passed your phone to Natasha for her to read it.

"Seems genuine" she shrugged.

"Okay :) I love you, stay safe, Nat invited me to a party tonight so if you are home tonight I'll be at this address, come pick me up ;)" you sent the text to Emily, the address being directly underneath it, you figured that even if Emily wasn't home tonight, at least she knew where you were.

When your professor let you go, you groaned to Natasha "Ugh she didn't even open my text"

"Lola listen I love you so bad but you gotta remember Emily is 27 with a super cool FBI job and she's working, she's not gonna be on her phone today" Natasha gently affirmed "and besides she chose YOU, she loves you Lo" Natasha hugged you "come on we gotta party to get to"

Natasha lived about 5 minutes away from campus so it didn't take long to get home, at this point you pretty much inadvertently moved in with her, everything was there so you just got ready there.

You and Natasha were in the car on your way to the party when you got a text message

"Have fun baby, I'll try to be home asap" Emily text back.

"See" Natasha teased you again by pushing your side, she mouthed the words "I love you" pretending to be Emily with overexaggerating features which made you roll your eyes and laugh.

"Ooh we're here" Natasha noticed "come on" Nat held your hand as she lead you out of the car, you clung to her arm as you walked inside.

"Natasha" a tall boy from the soccer team shouted.

"Will" she shouted back, Will looked over to me confused.

"Lola" you greeted.

"She's my best friend" Natasha smiled as she hugged you from the side and squeezed your shoulder.

"Nice to meet you, Lola" he smiled

"You too, Will" you smiled

You were there for all of 3 hours, drinking many drinks as you could to try and forget about Emily, when you noticed your cup has gone, Natasha wasn't around either, she had gone to the bathroom, you convinced her that you would be fine on your own considering the bathroom was only around the corner and that you would stay in the same place she left you.

Emily searched frantically for you everywhere in the house party

"Has anyone seen Lola?" she shouted through a state of desperation

"Kitchen" someone shouted back to Emily in the middle of their make out session

"Thanks" she rolled her eyes as she replied

"Woah what are you doing?" you turned around too see Emily cup your waist and bring you back down to your feet.

"Getting a cup" you mumbled under your breath.

"I can see that" Emily chuckled slightly "Lo I could've got you one" you noticed she reached up to get a new one for you, she was a lot taller than you so she was able to retrieve it easier and more safe than you would've.

"Thanks Em" you smiled

"You could've hurt yourself" Emily smiled gently after bending down to kiss your forehead and passing you the cup "here" you noticed her smile never faltering once which made you smile.

"Mmm you're the best ever and I love you, missed you so so so so bad" you slurred over my words but meaning all of them, you snaked your hands down the sides of Emily's hips and around her waist.

"I love you more and I missed you so much too honey" Emily spoke softly as she kissed your forehead, you relaxed in her arms after you felt her smile.

"Lola" Natasha shouted "Lo" she stopped after she bumped into Emily as she was facing with her back to the door to the kitchen and you were facing opposite her "Sorry I'm looking for Lola" Natasha also slurred.

"Tasha I"m here" you smiled.

"Who?" Natasha looked at you and then to Emily, the amount of times that Natasha had heard about Emily, spoken to Emily on the phone, the pair had never met, sure she had seen pictures but Emily changed.

"This is Emily" you turned as Emily greeted her by sticking her hand out.

"Natasha" she smiled You're right Lola" you furrowed your brows as you knew that Natasha had zero filter "she is the most beautiful woman in the whole world" you turned to Emily who you could swear turned a bright shade of red, your position changing, as you were stood in front of Emily, who's hands landed on your shoulders, her being so much taller meant that she could see over your head when you were talking so the way you were standing was second nature to you

"Thank you" she said to Natasha, she squeezed your shoulders so you both knew that she was actually talking to you.

"Can we go home now.. wan-wanna go to sleep" you hiccuped as you drunkenly grinned, you looked up at Emily to be met with her looking down at you, with a slight expression of worry on her face which made you furrow your brow.

"Sure, honey" Emily chuckled lightly "let's go" Emily took her hand in yours, you looked down and realised the cup was still in your hands, so you tugged slightly to get Emily's attention, you silently told her that you were putting the cup in the bin and she let you "Bye Natasha, it was great to meet you honey" she smiled.

"Bye Tash" you smiled.

"Do you need a lift?" you turned to face Emily who nodded slightly.

"Nah I'm good, I'm staying with Will tonight" Nat excitedly wiggled her eyebrows.

"Stay safe Nat I love you, let me know if you're okay" you let go of Emily's hand to hug your bestfriend.

"Ready" you spoke excitedly almost jumping into Emily "Sorry" you looked down embarrassed but she took your hand into hers

"Come on, Lo" Emily tucked your hair behind your ears and kissed you on the head as she lead you out with her hand.

You and Emily had been together for about a year so you pretty much slept in her apartment every night, she gave you a key a couple of months ago, she knew you when you were there and generally didn't see a problem, so you felt comfortable going back to her house.

Emily guided you up to bed with a water bottle and an ibuprofen next to you with a bucket on the floor, you gave her permission to change you seeing as you were almost sleeping at this point, Emily slipped in next to you and hugged you from behind, gently running her hands through your hair which made you happy, you loved receiving it and Emily loved doing it so it was a win for both of you.

"Goodnight Lola" Emily whispered as she leaned forward to kiss your temple.

“Goodnight Emily" you spoke softly.

——-

"Good morning you" Emily woke you up with breakfast in bed, you looked next to you to see a bottle of water and ibuprofen that Emily left out for you which made you smile a little bit.

"Hi Emily" you grinned, you tried to sit up to take the breakfast from Emily but groaned as you were seriously hungover.

"Here" Emily said "Take a bite out this toast and then take the medicine" Emily leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Mhm" you smiled as you ate the toast, you placed the plate on the bed and flopped back "Medicine next" Emily looked at you as she grabbed the plate.

"My head hurts so bad" you almost cried, Emily placed the plate down onto the bedside table.

"And it will until you take that ibuprofen, come on" Emily lifted you up by pulling your hands up and hugging you, not letting go until you did.

"Thanks for looking after me today, I don't even want to know what I was like yesterday" you and Emily both chucked lightly as you let go of the hug but still took her hand in yours

"Lola, it is really good to see you, I've missed you so much" Emily smiled at you, kissing your forehead once again.

"I missed you too, why didn't you call?" you looked up at her smiling sadly.

"I wanted to Lo, I did" Emily's words filled with a promise "the case was tough and I got overwhelmed and I overworked myself"

"Emily" you looked at her sternly "what's the real reason?" you questioned.

"I just-" Emily sighed "I love you so much Lola and I got scared, I got scared and this was the longest we've ever been away from each other that you would quickly become bored of this and that you would move on, I figured that if I can't be with you all that time then you wouldn't want me anymore" Emily sat on the end of the bed, nervously fidgeted with her hands, not even looking at you as she finished her sentence.

"Emily Prentiss I would wait forever for you, I get it you're a busy woman with a supercool superhero job, there are so many people in the world who rely on you but-but I do aswell" you sighed taking your hands into hers "I can do this- I want to do this with you, I don't care if you're gone a month,I know how important you are to this job and how important this job is to you, I knew that even before we started dating, I just need you to call me to let me know if you're okay" you cried, Emily wiping your tears "I'm willing to make this work if you are" you smiled as your cheeks were growing wet with your tears.

"I want to come home to you Lola, every night, you are my home Lo" Emily smiled "Move in with me" Emily questioned as you and her both stood up

"Em, I basically live here already but I would absolutely love to move in with you"you smiled as you hugged her, your hands wrapping around her neck and hers around your waist.

"Come on, let's go get your stuff" Emily smiled.

"Let's go" you smiled as you tossed Emily her car keys "you ready?" you turned back as you were excitedly in front of her.

"More than ever" she smiled.

#criminal minds #fanfic #paget brewster #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss x reader

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blainesebastian · 1 year

Text

oscar luncheon (ccg universe)

words: 3,392 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @stylespresleyhearted ): “Luci attending the Oscar luncheon with her daddy and being an absolute princess” notes: timeline is just a bit wonky to make luci around 2 for this. suspend your beliefs about time here for the ccg universe lmao warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @rairaielv

You’re not one hundred percent sure this is the best idea.

It’s not that Luci doesn’t do well at events, she does, she’s had two whole years of doing things with her parents. Award shows, dinners, red carpets, doesn’t matter. She’s well-behaved, soaks up every experience almost like a tiny movie star. You and Austin are lucky, you know that. You haven’t had to put either of your passions on the back burner to raise a child—not to say you wouldn’t have if you had to, in a heartbeat. Your lives have shifted, of course, but everything feels as if it’s been a lateral move.

At least for right now.

Regardless, Luci has always been an angel in taking her to events. You and Austin are still learning, sussing out how she does, when you need to cut things short or push the envelope. And it’s worked out in your favor so far but…

“I’m just not sure an all-day event is a good idea.” It’s the Oscar Luncheon, something that Austin obviously shouldn’t miss, but you’re debating what attendance should look like.

You’re on the couch with your husband, picking apart the week’s schedule. One of the things you love most about him is his ability to always have a conversation with you—doesn’t matter what it’s about. He’s willing, you both decide on things together, you hash out feelings or disagreements. It might seem like something small? But it makes the biggest difference.

Austin shifts a little against the cushions, his long body sprawled out, his back resting on the arm of the couch. Your body is angled towards his, along his legs. His one hand holds onto yours, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles while the other keeps Luci against his chest. She’s found a place to sleep, again, but this is a typical spot for her. She’s been known to just…find Austin when she wants to nap. She so reminds you of some sort of cat that kneads blankets or pillows before curling up to sleep.

Honestly it’s one of the biggest moods you could ever identify with—before your daughter took up that residence, it was one of your favorite sleeping spots too. Sometimes you’re lucky enough to steal it back.

“Oh you mean cause of this?” Austin asks, his voice an octave lower as he speaks to you, not wanting to wake Luci. He runs his fingers through his hair, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You roll yours, a soft laugh sounding, “I mean yeah, to start.” You chew on your lower lip, shrugging your one shoulder, “She’s been cranky lately.”

“So unsure where she’d get that from.”

You playfully smack his shoulder and he smirks. “She’s been favoring you,” And sure, that makes sense—Luci is learning the world around her, she’s also figuring out boundaries. She flip flops between both of them, suddenly becoming the favorite parent that she can’t get enough of, and currently (repeatedly) it’s Austin. Which means, “She started crying when you decided to carry that sack of potatoes at the grocery store to the check-out instead of her.”

“I think you were a little jealous too,” He teases but he doesn’t completely disregard what you’re saying, “I think goin’ to this event and figuring it out, there’s no shame in that. We’re still learnin’ as parents how this is all going to fit together.” He smiles over at you, lifting your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

He’s right, there’s no shame in figuring it out. You can bring Luci and see what works and what doesn’t. You just…there’s a bit of stress that comes automatically. But you guess if Luci can’t handle it or she starts that swell of temper tantrums that sometimes happen over the smallest things, you’ll just take her out, keep her occupied, begin all over again. You’re not gonna have Austin miss out on this opportunity, not when it’s so well-deserved.

“If I got to give a few interviews with her on my lap, don’t think anyone is gonna give me a hard time about it.”

A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth because no, you’d agree with that. Who wouldn’t want to see a beautiful, well-dressed man holding his daughter in his arms to give an interview? Besides, you and Austin are versed in reading one another’s needs, almost seamless at this point between cues and body language. If you need to take her for a few things, you can do that. Who knows—maybe being in Luci’s favor will swing back around.

“Just gotta remember snacks this time for your suit pockets.”

Austin laughs, mostly air leaving his nose, “Don’t worry—won’t make that mistake twice. Forgot a snack once and it was like World War III.”

“Goldfish-Gate.” You snicker and Austin rolls his eyes even though he’s smiling.

You let the room settle a little before drawing in a deep sigh, glancing over at your daughter asleep on your husband’s chest. It’s one of your most favorite sights in the world, her curled up against him, her body gently rising and falling as Austin breathes. You smile, leaning over to press a kiss to the back of her head before kissing him, quick but intimate. It’s says everything without uttering a word.

Austin licks his lips, his eyes following you for a moment as you lean back against the couch. There’s something in the blue of his eyes, like he wants to say something or comment on something you’re unsure about. It could be about the Oscar luncheon but you have a feeling he wants to assure you that even though Luci’s fondness has fallen to him lately, that she still looks to you sometimes as if you’ve hung the moon. You’ve learned to not let it bother you, both you and Austin bring so much to the table as parents, it makes sense that Luci is learning what each of those things are. She can love you both for different intentions—that’s okay.

And you’re constantly reminded through her, every day, that there are plenty of reasons to love Austin. So there’s no blaming Luci.

“You know, speakin’ of all this favoring,” Austin begins, leaning up just a little to wrap an arm around your shoulders, “You know I favor you.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head because he’s…so fucking corny sometimes (even though you absolutely love it). He’s encouraging you to lean against him and the couch cushion, so both you and Luci will have space along his chest.

“God, stop.”

“I do,” Austin smiles, kissing you slowly. When you try to pull away, he speaks against your lips, “I favor you.”

Your cheeks thrum pink and this familiar yet somehow age-old butterflying happens in your stomach. You get more comfortable against him, tugging down a blanket to throw over both your legs and along Luci’s back and continue to kiss him. Slow, no urgency, committing sensations to memory.

You definitely favor him too.

There are moments in which you catch yourself doing an inventory of your life and this is one of those times. You’re standing off to the side of all the cameras flashing, a soft smile on your face as you watch Austin photographed against the navy blue Annual Oscars Nominees backdrop. He’s wearing this tight-patterned slate suit and he just—he does this part so well, he looks good, absolutely ready to mingle and have this chapter be a well-earned part of his life. You couldn’t be happier for him. Austin does his series of poses, glancing over every so often to check on you. That’s one of the things you think you love about him the most—there are so many sides to Austin but they’re all genuinely him. He’s the same hard-working passionate actor at home and the same silly, loving, protective husband and father here at this event.

He makes a gentle motion with his hand, offering for you to come and stand with him to get pictures but you shake your head. Not that you haven’t done this plenty of times before, but this is his moment, you can stand to the side and let him bask in it. There are so many other times to get their shared picture today—you know that candids will be captured automatically.

You’re wearing a sleek black dress with puffy mesh sleeves and Luci has on a matching version, just a bit shorter so she doesn’t trip on it. You hold her in your arms and smile as she can’t take her eyes off Austin, pressing a kiss to her cheek. That seems to get her attention and she giggles, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Is that daddy?” You ask her when Austin finishes up and makes his way over to you. He reaches for your both, pressing a kiss to Luci’s forehead before kissing you briefly. There’s camera flashes, capturing moments you’ll no doubt see on Instagram later.

“Here.” Austin offers and you pass Luci over because you’ve got a nice dress on and she’s getting heavier by the day. He takes her seamlessly, wrapping one arm around her body and keeping her secure on his hip while his other arm slips around you to begin walking forward into the luncheon.

Luci is a chatterbox the moment you enter the event and honestly, it’s a beautiful space—these are the exact same moments you referred to before, almost like you can’t really believe you’re here. Some sort of dreamscape, pinching yourself to wake up. Half the time you come to these things and you don’t…feel like you quite belong, straddling the line of normalcy from which you’ve come from and diving in head-first into Austin’s world. It just doesn’t feel like something you can call your own yet—maybe one day. Austin doesn’t entertain that in the slightest.

Any time you mention giving him his own space to enjoy things he’s worked for or say things like this has nothing to do with me, Austin replies, it has everythin’ to do with you. And you know he means that—he ties any of his successes and his passions right to you. It’s something you’re still getting used to, that’s for sure, half the time you’re trying to just keep yourself out of the way at events like this, but Austin reminds you that you are worthy of being right in the mix of it.

You remember the schedule that Austin has other than to brush shoulders with people, he has a few interviews to sit in on, photographs that need taken. You smile as you head outside to the pool area with him, Luci brightening at the sight.

“Swim!” She exclaims, pointing at the water, her other hand playing with one of the brown buttons of Austin’s suit jacket.

“Can’t right now baby,” Austin tells her, squeezing her gently.

He reaches for your hand and keeps a hold of it, lingering near the pool for a few moments. You take a look around the edges—tall tables set up with hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne, interview spots with backdrops and cameras. Smoothing out your dress, people come and go to say hello and congratulate Austin, always pausing to say hello to you and something to Luci. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth because your daughter is enamored by this pool being here and you kinda wish it was the type of event where you could have brought suits and waded in.

Taking in a small breath, you turn and motion with your chin towards one of the interview backdrops, “SiriusXM?”

Austin hums in confirmation, fixing Luci’s dress a bit before he places her on the ground. She grabs onto his hand instantly and it’s always been amusing to you because Austin has to lean down, just a little, because of his height.

“Shouldn’t take too long.”

You laugh gently, “Don’t worry about us Austin, you don’t have to rush through anything.”

He smiles down at you and you press yourself up on your toes to plant a kiss to his cheek. Because you know that Luci’s going to be slightly difficult when Austin leaves, you open up your purse to hand her one of her favorite dino figurines for her to hold onto. She wraps her arms around your leg and you thread your fingers through her hair as Austin moves towards Jess Cagle to greet him and sit down in the director-like chair.

You overhear him comment, “I see you brought your beautiful family today,” To which Austin’s reply is, “Thank you—yeah, they’re never too far behind.”

He situates himself in the director-chair, adjusting his suit jacket and taking a bottle of water to have a few sips. Luci is watching with attentive eyes, tearing her attention between the dino in her hand, the pool, and her father. You smile, wishing you were in the type of outfit and at the kind of event where you could just sit down on the ground with her.

She entertains herself for the most part, telling you about how this particular dino loves the water and even dips it into the pool a few times. You ask her questions and smile about the responses, Luci every so often looking up and around at all the sights and sounds with much commentary. Eventually though, she realizes that Austin isn’t coming back as quickly as she’d like. You take her hand as she stands from the concrete, holding onto her dino and tilting her head to look in the direction that her dad has gone.

You follow her gaze, a small smile on your lips as you watch Austin talk with his hands.

“You see him working?”

“Yeah,” Luci confirms though her voice kinda sounds far away, definitely in thought. Then—what you knew was coming, “I want daddy.”

You hum, crouching down a little to playfully tug on the bottom of her dress, which makes her smile. “Daddy’s busy right now, okay? He’s almost done.”

She does not like that answer and gives a soft whine in protest. She takes a few steps forward and you scoop her up because she’s fast and slippery when she wants to be, knowing she’ll take off in a sprint towards Austin if she gives herself enough time to. She whimpers and squirms, attempting to tug your hands away. You can’t help but feel a bit amused, fondly thinking of the word brat, because her mannerisms are the exact same depending on who she’s favoring for the day. You remember her having the same wriggle fest last week when Austin was holding her at a food truck and you went to go grab napkins. Luci didn’t quite get to crying there but you can tell she’s close here, big fat tears filling her pretty eyes. You swear she somehow does this on purpose when it comes to Austin because it’s definitely kryptonite for him.

Luci hiccups something dramatic and Austin turns just a bit in his chair to glance at you both. You mouth the word sorry, attempting to shush her but he shakes his head, “S’alright, bring her here.” He clears his throat, “Sorry, Jess—” He says a bit offhandedly and opens his arms for you to bring Luci closer. You smile at the host, putting her onto his lap.

He squeezes your wrist in empathy before you back up out of the interview, Luci wiping both of her cheeks with her hands, her dino now resting on her lap.

“She knows exactly what she’s doing, doesn’t she?” Cagle comments with a soft laugh and you can’t help but roll your eyes in amusement. Austin hums but doesn’t comment, a soft smile tugging the corners of his mouth as he smooths Luci’s hair back from her face.

He tugs the goldfish out of his jacket pocket, handing it to her—and just like that, she’s pulls a one-eighty, content on her dad’s lap and quietly eating her snack. You shake your head, running a hand through your hair as you watch Austin complete his interview, balancing himself perfectly between responding to questions and tending to his daughter.

Once the interview is over, you move to pick Luci up so that Austin can stand and shake hands with Cagle to thank him before moving out and around and back towards the pool with you. Austin joggles between putting the goldfish back into his suit pocket, handing you the dino figurine to put in your purse and shifting Luci back into his arms as she turns her face into his neck and shoulder.

“Right on schedule,” You tease, knowing she’s going to try and sleep—and what better place than Austin’s chest? You can’t quite disagree there.

“She comes by it honestly,” Austin replies, running a hand up and down her back, “So do you.”

You smirk, giving him a winning smile with a small shrug, “Don’t think you should be blaming me for the fact that you’re incredibly comfortable.”

Austin laughs a little, shaking his head in soft amusement because right.

The rest of the luncheon goes by smoothly, lots of mingling and decent food, great moments for Austin to shine. Even after all this time, you’re not sure how to put into words that feeling of being so utterly proud of him, of conveying how much you love him.

Once it’s over, you feel beat, definitely an emotionally exhausting day in the very best of ways. Luci’s perked up since eating and she’s giving you an earful about different types of birds she’s seen within today alone. You hold her against your chest, giving her as much attention as you can manage, asking questions about colors and numbers and things she should be practicing as she talks about the birds she’s seen. She’s so incredibly observant, a brightness to her aura that always reminds you of Austin.

“Want me to take her?” He asks, turning to brush some hair out of Luci’s face, “Before she talks your ear off about birds?”

You laugh lightly and shake your head, “Nah, she’s fine.” You appreciate the offer though, not exactly the easiest when you feel dead on your feet in heels. She’s definitely growing too, every day, and the thought makes you squeeze her a bit tighter because…there will come a time when you won’t be holding her in your arms like this, when she’ll be too big to be picked up.

The SUV pulls up to the curb that you arrived in and both you and Austin exit the hotel to walk straight there. There aren’t as many moments anymore for Austin to stop and talk to fans when you’ve got Luci and you feel bad about that? But you’re grateful that he’s attentive where he needs to be. He keeps a firm hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the car, a small smile on his lips as he waves to fans, photographers and interviews alike. You get Luci situated in her car seat, closing the door once that’s done and sliding into the back with Austin.

You feel like you’re finally able to let out a sigh of relief once the SUV begins moving, Luci having a very one-sided conversation with her dinosaur as the driver takes you home. Austin inches a bit closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. It takes little to nothing for you to lean into his embrace, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you breathe in the scent of his skin and cologne, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. You can feel his breathing, the strong pulse against the tip of your nose.

“Think the event went really well.” He says, a few fingers running through your hair before he lazily massages your shoulder.

You hum, a small yawn slipping out before nodding, “Totally knew it would.”

Austin chuckles, shaking his head. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, “You gonna fall asleep on me?” He whispers in your ear. You barely nod, inching a bit closer—as if it’s even possible. He squeezes you close, “Like mother, like daughter.”

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

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weirdmarioenemies · 1 year

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Name: Mine Cart

Debut: Donkey Kong Country

What an important and influential box on wheels this is! It feels like everyone and their symbiotic Demodex mites have been putting mine cart levels in their games forever! We take them for granted like the air we breathe and also like the other stuff. It’s good we get to experience mine carts so much through games, since today’s youth and even today’s old people would rather use a SHOPPING CART and that is what is wrong with the modern world

Sorry. I fed the beginning of this post to the goats. I do not actually want to talk about the whole history of Mine Cart. Please just pretend I have just finished discussing all the appearances of Mine Cart between 1994 and 2010. Thank you.

Name: THIS Mine Cart

Debut: Donkey Kong Country Returns

Finally, in 2010, the Mine Cart was perfected! You can tell because it has a face now. The headlights are its eyes, and the grill is its toothy smile! It’s so happy! Happy to have a face. Now that the mine carts are little guys, I bet they have so much fun zooming along the tracks!

Mine Carts appear quite commonly in Cave levels, where they are seen often being ridden by mischievous mining moles! What rascally rodents! (moles are not rodents)

Upon being hypnotized by the Tikis, the Mole Miners fill the mine carts with copious amounts of bananas and- hey! HEY! These are different mine carts! What happened to my beloved gray grinner? The easy answer is “this is a different kind of cart made to be interlocked with others to form a train and we see this happen in the game”. But there is a better answer! In this game especially, bananas are shown to have magical properties, transforming empty wooden husks into real living Bad Guys. These bananas are, I assume, being transported to the factory for this very reason. But maybe these are the original mine carts! Maybe some of them, upon being full of bananas just right, spontaneously transformed into the happy, joyful vessel I am so convinced has feelings. Are you going to argue against that, in the world of this Magic Bananas Game? Punk?

Looks like THIS Mine Cart has struck it rich! It found and mined these crystals itself, fair and square. Good job! What’s it going to buy? None of our business! What is our business is that Donkey Kong cannot ride IN this one, but rather, surfs on top of it!

Honestly, what really made me so attached to Mine Cart like this was Tropical Freeze, where it has its own collectible figure! This was the first time I got to actually see its darling face, and to top it all off, it’s in the Kong Family section of the figure list! Mine Cart is part of the family! Back with 64 they seemed like they were stretching it by considering an orangutan part of the family, and here we are, with a Vehicle as part of the gang. It’s really quite nice, how it seems to imply that to the Kongs, as long as you help each other, you’re basically family!

Rocket Barrel is also part of the family. Rocket Barrel was in the Super Mario Bros. Movie! Mine Cart was not. But that is ok!

Mine Cart, this very Mine Cart with the darling face, is, as far as we know, planned to be the star of the mine cart roller coaster coming to Super Nintendo World! The one that’s supposed to feel like you are really jumping off of the track! I have been seeing a lot of excitement over the potential thrills, and I agree that it sounds really cool and fun! And best of all? All that fun and excitement, courtesy of my friend, DKCR Mine Cart. Everyone hyped for this roller coaster is, knowingly or not, hyped about Mine Cart (”character”)!

This is a Weird Mario Entity that is becoming real, and has quite a lot of hype about its introduction to reality. Just think about that. Isn’t the world beautiful?

#mine cart #donkey kong country #donkey kong country returns #donkey kong country tropical freeze #super nintendo world #mario entities #mario allies #donkey kong entities #donkey kong allies #mod chikako

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salt-and-a-dash-of-pepper · 1 year

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Quaritch and Spider’s Dynamic Means So Much

Hate how many people are over-simplifying Spider and Quaritch’s dynamic. Spider loves his Na’Vi family, but he’s aware he’s the “family pet.” He’s aware Neytiri doesn’t see him as part of her family. He’s aware he’s not Na’Vi. He’s aware he’ll never fully be accepted by the Sullies, and that deeply affects him and his sense of belonging.

He’s also aware of the atrocities that Quaritch has committed, which is why he’s so ashamed that he’s his son. But what changes is that Quaritch emerges as a Na’Vi, technically a completely different person, just with Quaditch’s memories and personality, so there’s enough of a fresh slate for Spider to influence. He wants his father (or rather, father’s clone) to experience life as a Na’Vi -- perhaps to dissuade him from causing so much damage against the Na’Vi later, but also live vicariously through him, and later to bond with him. Quaritch is the first authority figure to acknowledge Spider as an equal, stressing that he respects Spider’s resolve to not betray Jake. Spider yearns for encouragement from another authority figure, and he gets that from Quaritch.

And it’s so obvious that Spider’s existence affects Quaritch. You can tell he’s visibly bothered by the sky people’s interrogation of Spider, to the point that he acts uncharacteristically insubordinate by directly stopping the interrogation, which was headed by his own commanding officer. Later, when Spider is pleading with his father to not hurt the Metkayina people any further, Quaritch once again is uncharacteristic by showing restraint, choosing instead to burn their houses down rather than killing them. Still a terribly cruel thing to do, since he is the villain. But, I’m convinced Quaritch would have killed the Na’Vi without even blinking had Spider not been there. Something has clearly changed. He’s starting to want his son’s approval.

Finally, the obvious scene where Neytiri was prepared to kill Spider if Quaritch did not release Kiri. Sure, it could have been a bluff. But she was drunk on rage and bloodlust. Perhaps she would have killed Spider. What’s important was that Quaritch wasn’t willing to take that chance. He lets Kiri go. Those weeks he spent hunting Jake down to finally take revenge, holding his one advantage against Jake in his hands, immediately means nothing when Spider’s life is threatened.

Now, it’s totally valid to be enraged at Spider over the fact that he saves Quaritch after the man quite literally caused Neteyam’s death and vowed to kill all of Jake’s family. He is a traitor for doing so, and I’m interested to see how it plays out in the next movies. But part of me understands. Imagine your adoptive mother, who never really felt you were part of the family in the first place and never truly cared about you, held a knife to your throat to save her real child. Imagine the fear and betrayal he must feel. He still loves his Na’Vi family, of course. But Quaritch did something that Neytiri couldn’t -- care about Spider. And that feeling conflicts in him. He wants to belong, and the one family he trusted abandoned him at the beginning of the movie with no interest in saving him.

Lastly, by the end of the movie, Quaritch is willing to admit he views Spider as a son. He had stressed in the beginning of their first meeting that they were “strangers” and mean nothing to each other, but by the end of this movie Quaritch was willing to drop his whole quest against Jake to protect his son, and so when his son returns the favor by saving him, he wants Spider to come with him. But Spider just can’t do it, so he runs away.

I love the parallels between Jake and Quaritch because of it. They’ve both become fathers. Quaritch is starting to feel the protective love for his son the same way Jake feels his love towards his own family.

I’m really excited to see how this affects Quaritch in the upcoming movies. Perhaps through Spider, he embraces the fact that he’s a Na’Vi. Perhaps he embraces that he’s a father, and, like Jake, he’ll do anything to protect his son.

#avatar 2 #avatar 2 spoilers #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water spoilers #spider #quaritch #i wrote this completely sleep deprived so i may edit it when i wake up tomorrow

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vveris · 6 months

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Loki and Sylvie are the same person. Shipping them is weird. Point blank. I’m going to go on a very long tangent but it’s just because I’ve been very passionate about this since the first season.

Before starting this, I’d like to make something very clear. Loki and Sylvie are distinct people with different life experiences and personalities. I get that. However that does not discredit the idea that they’re variations of the same being.

Ok so, let’s start very simply. How do I know they’re same person? Two things

1. Lamentis-1

Something I find most people overlook when claiming Loki and Sylvie are two different beings is Lamentis. Before this episode, it was established that nexus events are undetectable during world ending events, which is why Sylvie could live at the end of the world. But on Lamentis-1, Loki and Sylvie caused an event so unthinkable that they were able to be found by the TVA. That nexus event was them (or at least one of them) developing feelings for the other. Normally you’d imagine that someone developing feelings for someone else wouldn’t be able to cause a nexus event at the end of the world. But since they’re the same entity, falling in love with a variant of yourself is catastrophic.

“But couldn’t it be that the event happened because they’re just from two different universes?”. I can understand that, but Mobius, a man who’s literal job is to know anything there is to know about variants, literally points out how weird it is that Loki fell in love with himself later in the season. But if that’s still not enough to convince you, think about Miles and Gwen. ATSV clearly shows Miles falling for Gwen, and yet they don’t cause a nexus event. Why is that? Because despite being from different universes, they’re not the same being.

2. Speaking of the spiderverse:

Here’s the fun part where I get to explain the difference between a being, a variant and a destiny.

A lot of people who ship Sylki argue the point that if Loki and Sylvie are the same person, then so are Miles and Gwen. …no lol. See Diagram A for a very important explanation.

The base characters are what the movie characters are based off. The characters that branch off are their variants

As you can see, Miles and Gwen do not come from the same base character, but Loki and Sylvie do. Cool so if two characters originate from the same base character, they’re the same!!

Now, often I hear that what makes Loki a Loki is their role/destiny. And yeah! Part of a Loki variant is their destiny, but, destiny isn’t everything.

See the MCU Miles I put on my diagram? I wanted to prove that destiny isn’t what ties variants together. See, MCU Miles isn’t a hero, he’s just a one off comment Donald Glovers character makes. He is not a hero, not a spider person, just a nephew.

Similarly, ITSV’s Gwen and live action Gwen do not share the same role/destiny in their universes. LA Gwen was just a citizen, who died like a lot of her variants. ITSV’s Gwen is the outlier of her variants, her role isn’t to be a spider person, yet she is one anyways.

I’d just like to point out now that the reason King Pens multiverse machine brought Gwen and Peter and the others to Miles’ universe was not because it was reading Miles true DNA, but the unique mutated genes that the spider(pig, in Porkers case) gave the spider people. Idk if that was obvious to others but it took me a couple rewatches to figure that out (+ it help’s discredit the whole “Miles and Gwen are the same” thing.

Overall, Loki Laufeyson and Sylvie Laufeydottir are variations of the same person, even with different personalities and life experiences (because they wouldn’t be variants if they were carbon copies of eachother).

———

I had more points to make but I literally forgot since it’s been 5 hours since I’ve first got worked up over this. I will update if I remember :)

Ship Sylki all you want, just please don’t ignore how weird it is (and also how one sided and semi toxic it is in general)

———

Also, I’m so up for discussion as long as y’all are civil about it. I don’t want to argue with people who are passive aggressive or otherwise 👍

#loki series #loki #loki laufeyson #loki season 2 #loki odinson #loki show #mcu loki #sylvie laufeydottir #loki x sylvie #sylki #ranting #this is a whole essay I’m sorry #I don’t even put this much effort into school

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elisysd · 11 months

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Somewhere only we know – Keane

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

So, tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm gettin' tired, and I need somewhere to begin

The bottle of red wine brought by Charles had not lasted long and the two young adults had quickly found themselves a bit tipsy. They both laughed happily at every little thing, no matter how insignificant, and started a game of Q&A about each other's tastes. It was an opportunity for them to get to know each other a little better. It started with harmless questions, like their favourite colour. Red for Charles and yellow for Lyanna. But very quickly the conversation became deeper.

“Hey, if you hadn’t been a F1 driver, what would you be?”

“Architect, or anything that is remotely connected to art and building. What about you?”

“I don’t know to be honest. The only thing I’m good at is acting, I never thought of doing anything else. And with acting I can be so many different people. Like, once I was the daughter of a fisherman. I had to do so many research and I spent three weeks in Alaska, where the movie was shot to understand what it was like to live the way they do. It’s so different from what I was used to and it really was an eyed opening experience. Acting is all about knowing your character inside and out. I would not trade that for anything in the world.”

“What’s the toughest thing in your job?”

She hesitated briefly.

“Being away from my family. I’m used to it by now, but still, it’s not always easy especially when you are missing birthdays and family gathering. Yes, there are phone calls and texts but it’s not the same.”

“Yeah, I feel you. It’s the same for me. I’m a family guy but even if I have the chance to have my brothers travelling with me most of the time, it’s still hard. I chose this life; I can’t really complain.”

“That’s the thing with our jobs, we can’t complain because we are part of the lucky ones. So many people dream of being out our place and failed, it’s not fair to them to say that our lives suck when it’s not the case.”

“That and also my family sacrificed so much to see me fulfil my dream, I can’t let them down.”

“Can I ask you something really personal, Charles? You can tell me you don’t want to answer if I’m going to far.”

He nodded.

“Are you racing because that’s what you love more than anything or are you doing it because you don’t want to feel like you failed your dad and Jules?”

“I’d say a little bit of both. There is nothing that makes me happier than getting in the car and race, but I would lie if I said that being at Ferrari is my dream and only mine. It was our dream, to me, my dad and Jules. I want to stay there and win a championship with Ferrari for them.”

It was the first time he admitted to someone, even to himself but for some reason it just came so naturally with her. He knew he would not be judged. He didn’t have to be the guy who knew exactly what he was supposed to do. He didn’t have to pretend that he had his life figured out and mapped out. God knew she didn’t so he didn’t have to pretend in front of her. They could be two lost people together. She didn’t say anything and when Charles looked at her, he noticed that she was sound asleep.

Uncomfortable with the idea of leaving her alone with the door unlocked (he didn't feel like going through her things looking for the keys to the flat), he decided to settle down on the couch after putting Lyanna in bed. She was heavier than she looked, much to Charles' surprise, who winced when he took her in his arms. She was so deeply asleep and relaxed that her muscles had become heavy. Charles had taken this as a sign that she was perfectly comfortable in his presence, which pleased him.

Once back in the living room he grabbed a cushion that was lying on the floor and a blanket that was curled up on the armchair by the fireplace. He knew he was in for a bad night, but at least he was reassured that nothing would happen to the actress.

Indeed, the night was tough. If Charles had to rank the worst nights of his life, the one he had just spent would be in pole position. His back was stiff and every single bone in his body was aching. Every stretch he made to wake up his still sleeping body hurt like hell. Every movement was agony. As best he could, he stood up from the couch and gave it a nasty look. He had to say something to Lyanna about this.

Speaking of, he was surprised to not see her awake. The sun was already high in the sky and he could hear the bustling crowds outside the windows of the apartment. He slowly approached Lyanna's room and tried to listen to see if he could hear any noises behind the door indicating that she was awake. Nothing.

Faced with this silence, he took the initiative to surprise her by preparing breakfast. He was also hungry, which was probably the main reason why he found himself in front of Lyanna's fridge and kitchen cupboards, and noticed to his horror that they were empty. There was not a single thing he could do for breakfast. So he chose the next option: home delivery.

Lyanna was startled awake by the doorbell. The young woman was not expecting anyone, and it was with a pounding headache that she got out of bed. Still groggy from the previous night's events and the alcohol consumed at the party and afterwards with Charles, she clumsily pulled on a sweatshirt that was lying on the floor. She fumbled for her phone, only to find it completely dead. The day was definitely off to a good start. The second thing that made her suspicious was the noise that seemed to come from the kitchen. On her guard, she quietly and slowly opened the door to her room and saw a sneaky figure in the living room. It took her a few seconds to realise that it was Charles.

“What the heck are you doing here?” she asked him, surprising him.

“Didn’t feel good about letting you alone with the door unlocked yesterday.”

“So you just stayed there? Where did you sleep?”

“Your couch. A couch that you should change if you want my opinion because it’s fucking uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well it’s a couch it is not made to be slept on Charles. And I won’t change it, I’m not gonna stay here anyway.”

Her comment stopped Charles dead in his tracks as he held both coffees in his hands. For the first time he was truly aware that Lyanna would leave sooner or later. The young woman noticed the confused look on her friend's face and feared for a moment that she had said or done something wrong.

“It’s just that I didn’t realise that you were going to leave Monaco at some point.” He explained to her.

“Yeah, well I’m here to work, my life is in London. What were you thinking? That I was going to fall in love with Monaco and leave everything behind?” she said amused while laughing slightly.

“I don’t know what I was thinking to be honest. When are you leaving?”

“In a month exactly. I already booked my plane ticket to go back home. I can’t wait to sleep in my bed again. You travel a lot, you know how it is. When you’re away from home, what you miss the most is your bed.”

Charles absent-mindlessly groaned is response. She was genuinely happy to leave and he couldn’t help but to feel a little hurt. Of course that, deep down, he knew that she wasn’t here to stay but still, he didn’t want to have to tell her goodbye.

“I’m going to miss you, you know.” he confessed, a little abruptly.

She looked at him.

“Same. You made Monaco a little more bearable, but hey, I’m still here for now. Let’s not be sad for something that hasn’t happened yet!”

Charles then proceeded to explain to her that his season was about to start again and that in the next few days he would be doing a lot of travelling back and forth between Maranello and Monaco. He knew that he would have little time for her. This suited Lyanna perfectly as she was also very busy. But still, the two young adults were aware that the bubble in which they had isolated themselves over the last few weeks was about to burst and that reality was catching up with them at full speed.

“Well, I’d say, let’s make the most out of these three weeks.”

“You’re right. How do you feel about dinner? Out?”

She hesitated. There are some automatisms that you can’t get rid of, not matter how hard you try.

“ If I tell you that it won’t be in public and I can organize something where I can guarantee you it’ll only be the two of us, without any risks of being interrupted, does it reassure you?”

“You’re not going to rent out a place, are you? Because if so, let me tell you that it’s a boring cliché.”

He laughed.

“Who do you take me for?”

She arched an eyebrow in response.

“Okay, okay. But trust me on this one.”

“You are not going to give me the choice, so go ahead. But please, nothing too grand.”

“You are going to love it! I gotta go, I have some calls to make. I’ll text you the details later.”

Charles was excited that the young woman had agreed. He got up from the couch, put on his shoes awkwardly, under Lyanna's amused eye, and approached her, planting a kiss on her forehead before bursting out the door. Lyanna laughed silently and shook her head. She was curious to see what the Monegasque would prepare for her.

It was Arthur, Charles' younger brother, who was called in for the operation. Charles had thought big. He was going to take Lyanna to dinner at sea, on his yacht, away from the people and the constant bustle of Monaco. Nothing but them and the sea as far as the eye could see and the sunset. He hoped it would relax Lyanna and that she would enjoy the attention. But a part of him was anxious, nonetheless. What if she got seasick? What if she hated the ocean? What if she got sick from his cooking, he would blame himself. And at the same time, he wasn't taking any risks with pasta Bolognese. Unless she was vegan. He should have asked. Seeing his brother on the verge of panic, Arthur decided to have some fun and see how much stress he could add to his brother.

“You are aware that it looks like a date, right?”

“It’s not a date.”

“It sure looks like it.”

“It is not.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s a friendly date, then.”

Arthur groaned in response.

“Stop it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“We’re just friends Arthur.”

“I believe you.”

“She is leaving soon anyway. And I’m gonna be busy with the end of the season.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

Charles sighed, clearly annoyed. Why did it seem so hard to believe that there was only friendship between him and Lyanna? For Charles, this friendship was far too precious and important to him to let it be ruined by any further desires. He didn't want a relationship for a long time. His priority was his career, the rest was irrelevant. And what was the point of starting a relationship when he knew he didn't have room for one in his life? No, really, he and Lyanna would never be anything more than friends. And that was just fine.

“Come on, make yourself useful, go and sweep the floor for me.” he commanded his brother.

“You owe me 50 euros for that!” complained Arthur.

Lyanna got a text from Charles the morning after asking her to wear something casual but dressy at the same time. He could not be vaguer if he wanted to. So it was a lost Lyanna who called her childhood best friend Emilie to ask her advice and to summarize the situation, which already took her a good hour.

“You do know that it’s a date, Lya?”

“It’s not. It’s a friendly outing away from people so I can be comfortable. It’s thoughtful.” the actress tried to justified.

“He definitely wants to bang you girl. No guy is this nice with a girl unless he’s trying to get her into bed.”

“Charles is not like that.” Defended Lyanna.

“Darling, I love you but you’re so naïve sometimes.”

“Is it so hard to believe, hum? That he wants to be my friend? You’re friend with a lot of guys and I’ve never told you anything about it!”

“It’s not the same.”

“How so?”

“Okay. I did some research on him. And don’t be mad…”

“Emilie…” groaned Lyanna.

“This guy seems to be a walking red flag. I looked at his dating history and it doesn’t look good.”

“Well perfect because I don’t want to be a part of that. Again we’re just friends. Nothing else.”

“Yeah well, he was also friends first with is exes … I’m just saying be careful okay. I don’t want you to end up like how you ended up when you broke up with James.”

“I won’t. Charles is a nice guy, really. I trust him and you know how hard it is for me to trust people. It means something, right?

“I still don’t like him but I won’t change your mind so I give up, for now.”

“Thanks, and I’ll prove you wrong about him just wait and see.”

Emilie gave up and after another hour of facetime going through the contents of Lyanna's wardrobe, the choice was made for an emerald green linen short jumpsuit with a bare back. White wedge sandals and some silver bracelets completed the outfit. Lyanna wore her hair in a braid and chose to leave her face bare, without makeup. She liked herself better this way.

“Good luck for your date that is not a date. I want to know every single details as soon as you come back.”

“Promise. And thanks again. He is supposed to be picking me up real soon. I have to go.”

She was about to hang up when her friend interrupted her.

“Hey Lyanna…”

“Yes?”

“I just want to see you happy, okay. I know that I can be a little protective over you but I just don’t want to see you heartbroken again.”

“It won’t happen. I promise you.”

“And if Charles is really honest, ask him to talk to you about his exes, okay? Because from an external point of view, his past relationships make him look like a jerk.”

“If the opportunity comes up I will if it can make you feel better. I really gotta go though, love you.”

“Love you too. Have fun but not too much fun.”

“Yes mom!”

They quickly exchanged their goodbyes before hanging up. One last look in the mirror before meeting Charles outside, a few blocks away from the residential building, a long and deep breath and she was ready.

“A Fiat 500? Really?”

Those were her first words when she saw him, dressed in a plain blue shirt, a pair of white trousers and his Ray ban sunglasses hanging loosely from his collar. He was standing proudly next to the car, a smile beaming on his face.

“I thought that the Pista wasn’t really giving ‘we want to stay on the lay low’ kind of vibes. So I rented this! What do you think?”

“Are we both going to fit in there? Or will we have to squeeze because it seems so tiny.” she said with a grimace.

“Oh come on, I know a lot of people who would be overjoyed at the idea of being stuck with me in this box.”

“Your ego doesn’t need me to feed it.”

“I’m wounded Lyanna. Deeply.” he replied with both hands on his chest, pretending to have been mortally injured.

The young woman laughed heartily and patted him on the back of the head before opening the passenger door and getting into the seat. The journey was made in silence, only punctuated by the music coming from the radio. They soon arrived not far from the harbour where Charles parked the car before beckoning Lyanna to follow him. A few metres further on, they stopped in front of Charles' yacht.

“Tadam!” he exclaimed.

“Your yacht. Are you playing to kill me and throw my body in the water?”

“Ah ah, smartass. I hope you’re not seasick and you like pasta because that’s what we are going to eat. I planned a little trip on the water. I told you I was going to find a way to give us privacy and still enjoy being out.”

“I have to admit, well done. I didn’t think you were that resourceful.”

“I’m full of surprises. Stick around and you might find more.”

Charles was the first to climb aboard before reaching out to Lyanna who took it, having little confidence in the bridge between the boat and the mainland. Charles' firm hand in hers did not prevent her from wavering slightly as she stepped onto the yacht. Her hip bumped against the rail and she winced in pain. Although she didn't have a bruise there, David's grip on the red carpet had left her muscle sore.

“You’re okay?” asked Charles.

“Yeah, I’m fine don’t worry. I’m just a little sore here, nothing bad though. I’ll survive.”

“A bad fall? I have a good doctor if you need one.”

“I’m not made on paper Charles, I’m fine, okay. Just drop it, please. David just has a strong grip, that’s all. He hurt me a little.”

“What do you mean ‘he has a strong grip’? Charles asked with a frown.

The actress briefly explained to him, without going into the details of their altercation, what had happened with David on the red carpet. But her explanation did not seem to please Charles who tried to ask her more precise questions, feeling that the young woman was not telling him everything.

“Lyanna, I’m just going to be straightforward but has he been violent with you? Physically.”

“Oh no Charles, you’re not going to act like a watchdog with me, okay. I won’t allow it. He is just an arrogant asshole; I’m not scared of him. And you’re certainly not going to stick your nose into my business.”

He grumbled a little but, anxious not to ruin the dinner, he let it go. Charles then went to the cabin of the boat to indicate to the captain that they were ready to leave and then motioned to Lyanna to come with him and together they went to the back of the boat where Arthur had set up a nice table waiting for them. The pilot proceeded to pull Lyanna's chair so that she could sit in it. At his gesture, she gave a soft laugh.

“A real gentleman.”

“Or you do things the right way or you don’t do them at all.” He replied.

He then excused himself to fetch two plates that were waiting to be eaten.

"Well, you didn't do things halfway," Lyanna said.

“You deserve it and I did promise you a nice evening. And as it probably is our last before a long time, let’s enjoy it.”

“To our last times, then.” she toasted, a drink of champagne in her hand.

“Hey, we will still see each other. Not as much but I’m sure we will find occasions.”

“How come?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, you could come to some of my races? I was thinking that maybe you could come with me in the Netherlands. It’s the next one in three weeks. And you don’t have to watch from the Ferrari garage if it scares you, you could be officially Pierre’s guest. Kika will be there, you could spend time with her you know.” At this point he was rambling.

“I see you thought this through.”

The truth was, he did. Charles could not bring himself not to have her around. He had become far too accustomed to her presence and the idea of being away from her bothered him more than he had imagined. So he had spent the day thinking of a solution. Preferably one that wouldn't make her run away in advance. He knew that if she came to one of his races, it would only rekindle the rumours, and considering how it had gone the last time for them, he certainly didn't want the situation to happen again.

“And what do you think? I have a whole plan prepared, you just have to say yes and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Charles… I have no doubt that you do but I can’t come. I’m wrapping up the movie soon and I’m really needed here, I can’t leave. And then I wanted to go back in France for a few days to see my family before going back to London. I just don’t have the time to squeeze a race in there.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” he asked abruptly, hurt by her answer.

“Don’t take it like that…”

“I’m trying to find solutions to not have to say goodbye to you Lya.”

“And it’s really nice from you. But hear me out as well. I can’t drop everything to be at your side every chance we get. I have my life too, my work and obligations. It’s not that I don’t want to be there with you.” She explained.

“Well if you don’t want to come to Zandvoort, come to the football charity game organized this week. I would love to have you there and you won’t be alone, Kika will be there too since Pierre is participating. And I will film some stuff for my youtube channel. I would like to have your input.”

“Don’t you have a team to help you with that? Surely, they know what they are doing.”

“They do, my best friends manage most of the content I post online but I would like to have your opinion, you know, as someone who is used to being in front of the camera.”

“Well, tell me when it is exactly and I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of the dinner went relatively well. Charles opened up a lot about his past and told her some funny anecdotes about is dad and Jules without having Lyanna asking for it. It made her happy, seeing that he trusted her enough to let her inside this aspect of his past. But Lyanna could not help but to have in the corner of her mind the words of her best friend, telling her to let Charles speak about his dating history. She didn’t know how to ask him without it being awkward.

“Can I ask you an intrusive question?” She ventured.

“Yeah. I’m not hiding anything.”

“How come you don’t have anyone in your life?”

He sighed and leaned against the back of his chair, staring into space, trying to find the best way to formulate his thoughts.

“If I’m meant to have this conversation, we should at least have it while eating the tiramisu I bought.”

He stood up and quickly returned with two generous slices of Italian cake.

“I didn’t have much romantic relationships in my life. Well, not many that really mattered I would say. My life is busy, always being away, working a lot, you know how it is. It doesn’t allow me much time to meet people or develop new relationships. If I’m being honest, you are the first person, in a long time, I befriended that is not from Monaco or that is not linked to the motorsport world. And you see what happened with the rumours, everytime I’m seen with a girl, it is blown out of proportion. It scares away a lot of people. So it’s really not helping. The scrutiny I get on the daily is hard to handle. I’m not counting on the number of paparazzi pictures of me and my ex-girlfriends that were in the press.” He explained.

“Is this why you always date girls that are in the same friends group?” The question slipped out and he looked at her in surprise. “Sorry, it’s rude. It’s just that I read that online and… anyway forget it.”

“I… well… I mean, I guess it has always been easier this way? It’s no excuses and I know that it can make me look like the biggest jerk ever…”

“No, you think?” she tells him sarcastically.

“The truth is, that way you don’t have to question people motive, I can already trust them a little bit. I don’t have to tell them my story, I don’t have to allow the trust to grow. Time wise, it’s easier and it’s spared the awkward situations.”

“Yeah well, basically you are saying that you don’t have to go through what you went through wit me. I don’t know how to take it.”

“Lyanna, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not the same with you.”

“How so?”

“Because I know that nothing will ever happen between us. We are just friends, you are not expecting anything from me. It’s refreshing.”

She didn't show it but deep down she was hurt.

“Am I a distraction for you?”

“What? No of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s how you make me feel right now. Like I don’t matter. Like I can be replaceable.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I want you in my life Lyanna? Our friendship is important to me. We don’t know each other for that long but you quickly became one of the most important people in my inner circle. I want you to meet my other friends, I want you to meet my family, I want to show you what my job is, I want to include you, okay? It’s clear from my end. The question is will you let me to?”

Lost in the middle of the ocean, with the water stretching as far as the eye could see, Lyanna felt trapped. So she got up from the table and went to lean against the rail a few metres away.

“I would love to trust you fully Charles, but it’s hard for me. If I do that, if I let my guard down with you, I need to be two hundred percent sure that I’m not making a mistake, that I can trust you and you won’t judge me. Because I would not be able to handle it.”

Charles slowly approached her before putting his arms around her shoulders and pulling her against him. She could feel his breath in her hair and his body scent mixed with the smell of the sea air and his aftershave reassured her. She felt good, protected and safe there.

“I promise you Lyanna, you will always have me in you corner, no matter what happens;”

She moved away from him and sat down on the floor. He did the same.

“Then, I guess it’s time for me to tell you what happened 5 years ago.”

========

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